


Flight of Fantasies

by Pogo_Fogo



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: F/F, F/M, M/M, Multi, Personal Work posted for the delight of others.
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-18
Updated: 2014-09-02
Packaged: 2018-02-13 18:15:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 37,625
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2160312
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pogo_Fogo/pseuds/Pogo_Fogo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The following work is one that I have written for myself and now post for others to share in the pleasure of reading. There is smut as it is meant to be a smutty fan fiction through and through, you have been warned! The main character is one of my own, myself, the reader, however you wish to read it and the interaction between the characters of Sherlock (TV series). The story centers around the relationship between Mycroft and my character though a number of tangents evolve as I have written. I don't know as of yet where this story will go or where it will end, only my mind does.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1: First Meeting

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for taking the time to read my pointless brain ramblings (ie. my smutty writings). Please read, enjoy and feel free to leave comments. This is currently 5 note pads long of writing so expect much more to come, it's a slow start, so be patient!
> 
> As I said. Enjoy!! :)
> 
> The main characters name is Ceili pronounced (K-lee), it is an Irish Gaelic spelling.

Ceili woke to the nagging sound of the hotel room alarm clock. She groaned, turning over, all she wanted was more sleep. The flight to London Heathrow she had been on had been delayed due to the typical Canadian bad winter weather, so she hadn't even arrived at her hotel room till a few hours previous.

As her head began to throb in time to the alarm’s buzzer she pushed herself out of bed, hitting the silence button on the way to the bathroom. Looking in the mirror, all she could see were the large bags under her eyes. Frustrated she splashed cold water at them to no avail.

“Make up then!” she called to the universe. Diving into her luggage back in the bedroom and returning with her makeup case.

Once she found herself presentable enough she next tackled her bedhead which was a much simpler venture thanks to her short cropped haircut which she combed through and tucked behind her ears. Returning to the bedroom she turned on the television to the news and waited for the weather report of cloudy overcast skies and chilled temperatures before pulling her dress and jacket from the hanging closet. She threw the dress over her head, smoothing down her hair after it. It was a nice black dress, one she had worn often to job interviews. It just seemed to hit her in all the right places. She had matched it with a pair of kitten heels of the same colours as well as a suit jacket. London’s winter was warmer than her native Canada, but not tropical. With no new news updates she shrugged and turned off the television, deciding to see if the lobby was serving breakfast. It felt like she hadn't eaten in ages.

Exiting her room and leaving the ‘do not enter’ sign on the door she grabbed her purse and walked down the hall towards the elevators, or ‘lifts’ as the wall sign stated. She stood and hammered the down arrow impatiently till a distant rumble signaled that it was on its way. Moments later the doors opened with an audible “ding” and she stepped aboard the empty compartment, pressing the letter ‘L’ for the lobby. Resting against the back railing she sighed deeply, hoping the day was going to go better than her sleep had. Arriving at the lobby the doors slid open and she disembarked amongst a crowd of weary eyed airline crews, who much have just arrived, and some over-eager looking tourists. Pushing past them she entered the dining area where a small buffet had been set up. Ceili grabbed a plate and made toast with butter to go along with her serving of steaming scrambled eggs. She also poured herself a cup of tea before finding herself a spot at a nearby table. She dug into her eggs, each mouthful warming her hungry stomach.

“I can tell you’re not from around here.” a voice echoed from her right shoulder.

Ceili lowered her fork and met the man’s gaze.

“A native wouldn't drink black tea, always need a little milk.” he smiled, pulling out the chair opposite, uninvited.

Ceili looked around the empty dining area; the man could have sat anywhere else.

“Anderson.” the man spoke, offering his hand.

“Ceili.” she responded back with a cautious smile.

“So what brings you here to our fare shores?”

“Travel.”

“Obviously. By your outfit I’d say business or government.”

“Hmm.” she responded, her mouth full, eyebrows arched in amusement.

“Canadian by the accent.”

“You’d guess correct.” she shrugged, taking a gulp of her tea.

“So government or business then?”

“What does it matter to you?” she retorted, eyes narrowing.

“Just curious whether I’m right.” he smiled, scratching his 5 o’clock shadow with the back of his hand.

“You’re not that strange Holmes guy are you?”

She had read about the man in the newspaper on the flight over.

“If only.” Anderson sighed, “More of a fan.”

“So you want to be like him then?”

“I can only try.”

“ANDERSON!” What the bloody hell are you doing?” a grey haired man came striding up to the table and he didn’t look impressed.

“Sir.” Anderson smiled up at the man.

“Get to the car NOW.” the man growled, glaring at him; his face inches from Anderson.

Anderson looked like a moping wet dog as he got up from his chair. Once he was out of earshot the grey haired man turned to Ceili.

“Sorry about that ma’am.” he shrugged. “He sort of loses it every once in a while. Too valuable to get rid of though.”

She smiled.

“So who is he?”

“Anderson. Have to say most of us have forgotten his full name.” he replied with a smirk.

“I know his name. Who is he?”

“Just your run of the mill crime scene investigator with an obsessive tendency for conspiracy theories and Sherlock.” he smirked again.

“Sherlock. As in the detective guy?”

“Odd, I know. For one, I can’t stand him.”

“DI Lestrade!” the front deskman called from across the lobby.

“Coming!” the man called back, glancing at his watch. “Excuse me.”

Ceili shrugged as she watched him leave. By this point her tea was cold and her eggs had become a congealed mess. She sighed, taking a bite of her now lukewarm toast, the crumbs falling onto her lap. She placed the toast back on her plate before brushing off her legs. Looking up from her lap, two men in black suits and sunglasses stood on either side of her.

“Ms. Barton?” the man on her right asked gruffly.

“Yes?” she replied. Wondering why she was so popular of all mornings and in a place she had never been.

“Please, come with us.”

“For what reason?” she responded, standing up from her seat and placing the table between herself and the men.

“I believe you have a job interview madam?” the man now on her right stated, withdrawing a piece of paper from his pocked and holding it out to her.

Ceili studied both men as shook took it. Slowly she unfolded the note, inside was a typed message.

[I apologize for any confusion this may cause you, but the location of your interview has been changed. Please accompany my men to the new location. Regards, MH]

Ceili looked from the men to the note and back before folding the paper over in her fingertips.

“I guess I am coming with you then? I was looking forward to taking the Underground.”

“It’s not that exciting.” the first man that spoke stated, moving to the side so she could pass him.

Grabbing her purse from under the table she hesitantly followed the two men outside to the front of the hotel where a large black Jaguar XT sat waiting. The leading man opened the rear door for her and she slid into the back seat, surprised to find a woman sitting next to her. Pulling her purse in beside her, the second man closed her door before taking his spot in the driver’s seat. Ceili turned to look at the woman, who was busily texting on her phone. She had a skirt suit on and long black-brown hair. Bright red lipstick coated her lips.

“You're going for an interview as well?”

“Not really.” the woman cooed.  “You’ll be replacing me.”

Ceili bit her lip in awkward silence.

“It’s alright, I’ve been the one pushing this whole thing.” she smiled, looking up from her phone momentarily.

Ceili blinked in reply.

“I’m so busy with my own job I can’t make enough time for him.” she sighed, returning to her phone.

“I applied for a transfer to the British Government and got a call to come for an interview. I’ve yet to be told for what.”

The woman looked up again.

“You will find out shortly.” she spoke reassuringly.

Ceili wondered if she had made the right decision coming to London as the car pulled away from the hotel. She had been surprised when she had gotten the reply to her application, she had really only done it on a whim, a dare from one of her co-workers. She had come from a desk job in the Canadian Government, thanks to a scholarship from her university.

The car took turn after turn and it felt like hours before they arrived at a white Victorian row house, just past Trafalgar Square. The car turned off the main road and pulled up to the side of the building. The two men got out and opened the back doors where the woman and she climbed out.

“Follow me.” she spoke, leading through a side door.

Ceili followed her down a long carpeted hallway until it opened into a large sitting room with a large Victorian fireplace, couch and several high backed armchairs. The room colour reflected the outside façade, aged white, like it hadn’t been painted in a while. As Ceili walked further into the room a line of large dark wood bookshelves came into view, packed to bursting with large tombs of knowledge. The smell they emitted was comforting to her heightened nerves.

“This here is the retiring room, your new bosses, “she paused, “your…possible…new boss’s office is just through that door.”

She motioned to a heavy wood door on the opposite wall.

“If you’d like to wait here, I will come and get you when we’re ready.”

Ceili nodded and the woman turned to leave through the office door.

“One question.” Ceili spoke.

“Yes?” she replied, seeming intrigued.

“What is your name? If you don’t mind me asking?”

“Anthea.” she smiled, before turning and walking into the office, opening and then shutting the door behind her with a quiet “click” against the door frame.

Ceili stood in the center of the room as it fell into silence. The clock ticking on the wall, counting away the minutes, was all that let her know that time hadn’t paused or frozen in place.

“Well then.” she whispered to herself, glancing around the room.

The large fireplace was the main centerpiece of the space, a large Victorian couch facing it upholstered in a dark shade of red. A few feet away sat two chairs facing each other, the high backs covered in dark brown leather and studded with gold metallic tacks, a side table next to each. Against the wall to her right sat a banqueting chest, which was doubling as a side board as it held a large crystal decanter and four glasses. The decanter was filled with a dark amber liquid, port or brandy she guessed. Stepping further across the room she could now see there was a second door in the room which had been blocked by the fireplace. It was closed also and she didn’t think wandering around would make the best first impression. She was just about to turn back towards the hallway door when the office door opened in front of her, Anthea stood in the doorframe.

“We are ready.” she announced.

“Alright.” Ceili smiled, her nerves returning.

She followed Anthea through the doorway into the smaller office where another smaller fireplace was dwarfed by the large desk which stood in the room closest to her. A wood chair sat in the middle of the room opposite the desk.

“Is this an interview or interrogation?” Ceili whispered to Anthea.

Anthea turned and smiled.

“I’ve heard you have training in both.”

Ceili swallowed hard and took her place on the wooden chair, dropping her purse beside her. Anthea exited through a side door, but quickly returned with a middle aged man in tow.

“Ms. Barton.” the man smiled, as he took his seat at the desk. Anthea sat beside him.

“Yes.” Ceili replied, sitting up straight, hands clasped in her lap.

“My name is Arnie Shallows and I will be conducting the interview for your prospective boss, who is a very busy man.”

Ceili nodded her acknowledgment.

“So let’s see here.” he mumbled, skimming over a piece of paper that could only be her resume.

“You are currently 29 years old and have been in the Canadian Government for three years. Quite young.”

“Yes sir. I got the job due to a university scholarship, good grades and such.”

“I see. You also have super-secret clearance.”

“Yes. I required it for the work I did.”

“So what made you apply to work with us then?” Arnie squinted, “You had a nice solid job.”

“To tell you plainly, my co-workers dared me.”

Arnie arched his eyebrows and Anthea was doing her best to hide an amused smirk.

“I was surprised I even got a reply.” Ceili confided.

“You were the only reply.” Anthea retorted.

Ceili sat speechless, she wasn’t sure she had heard Anthea clearly.

“You Ms. Barton are the only on that qualified out of thousands of applicants. You lack experience in some areas, but things can be taught and learned.”

Ceili could only blink in return.

“The job, if you accept, will include all required accommodation and competitive pay. However, in return you must give up your life for this job.”

“Like die?” Ceili gasped. Her old desk job was sounding more and more attractive.

“No.” Anthea smiled, “just no holidays, weekends, evenings. This job is a 24/7, 365 day commitment.”

Ceili looked at Anthea and wondered what had drawn her to the job.

“You will be a personal aide to one of the most powerful men in Britain. Though he will tell you otherwise.” Artie summarized.

“His name is Mycroft Holmes.” Anthea added, “You may have heard of his brother.”

“Sherlock Holmes?”

“One and the same.” Artie sighed, placing her resume onto the desk.

“I can give you a few moments to think it over if you’d like.” he proposed, after a moment’s silence.

“Yes please.” Ceili breathed, her mind was still playing catch-up.

Arnie stood and left through the side door. Anthea rose to leave also, but Ceili stopped her.

“Could you please stay? I have a few more questions.”

“Sure.” Anthea nodded, walking to the front of the desk and leaning against it.

“Why did you do it? What made you take the job?” Ceili asked. She wanted the reason.

“The unknown. With Mycroft there will always be the unknown.”

“Unknown?”

“Power, mystery, suspense, secrets and that brother of his.”

“Do you miss it?”

“Having a life? No. I didn’t have anything to hold me then, no family and no home really. Now with my next post it will be the same, just with new scenery.”

“What would you do if you were me?”

“I’d take it. You did this on a dare from co-works that must say something of your character. Plus, the experience will add to your resume.”

Arnie re-entered the room then, a glass of red wine in his grasp.

“Have we come to a decision then?” he asked, taking a sip from his glass.

“I’ll do it.” Ceili replied, standing. “I’ll take your offer.”

Arnie looked from Anthea to her and back.

“Well congratulations are in order then.” he smiled.

“I must leave, Arnie.” Anthea echoed in reply, moving from the desk.

Arnie looked downcast at this announcement.

“Don’t let that stop you.” she smirked as she left through the retiring room.

“A drink?” he offered.

Ceili considered the offer.

“I must decline. My plane arrived late and I would prefer to be well rested for my new employment.”

Arnie nodded, though his face showed his disappointment.

“Well, I will send a car around for you in the morning then. This way.”

Ceili followed him out through the side door, purse in tow. The door opened onto a short hallway which took a sharp corner just ahead of them. The walls were covered in ornate wallpapers and wood panelling.

“No speaking.” Arnie whispered, as they turned the corner.

The hallway, like the last one opened up into a large room which was lined with armchairs and side tables, each with their own lamp. Older gentlemen sat reading newspapers in their business suits, younger ones tapping away on their blackberries and smartphones. Artie escorted her towards the front door. As she reached the entrance to the front lobby her eyes met with one of the younger gentlemen. The man had close cut brown hair with the beginnings of a receding hairline. He wore a three piece dark pinstripe suit, a pocket watch peaking from the inside of his waistcoat. The smile he gave her was genuine and she nodded with a smile in reply. The man couldn’t have looked over 40.

Artie helped her outside the large front doors and hailed her a taxi.

“Who was that?” she inquired as she climbed into the back of the cab.

“The man you smiled at?”

“Yes.”

“Mycroft Holmes, your new boss.” he stated, shutting the door as the cab took off.

Ceili sat in silence for the cab ride back to the hotel and collapsed onto her bed in the hotel room soon after, a feeble mumbling sigh escaping her lips.

“What have a gotten myself into?” she asked the ceiling.

Mycroft her new boss, apparently one of the most powerful men in Britain and the brother to a strange detective named Sherlock. Anthea had been right when she had explained why she had taken the job. Ceili couldn’t get her brain to stop reeling, the adrenaline was addictive. While her desk job had been secure, her brain had lost out on the bet. Leveraging herself up off the bed she stripped out of her dress and curled under the blanket in her underwear and bra. It took only moments before she fell asleep.

She didn’t dream, but it wasn’t a restful sleep either and the next thing she remembered was a hand on her wrist. Bolting upright her hand collided with the man’s nose and her elbow made contact with his crotch before she found herself opposite of the intruder across the double bed.

“Good hit.” he groaned, stemming off his bloody nose with his fingers.

“Who the hell are you?” Ceili panted, her hands still raised in defense.

“Your ride.” he breathed, “Good morning.”

Ceili glanced from the man to the clock on the bedside table which read ‘8:00 a.m.’. Her hands slowly dropped to her sides.

“Some clothes?” the man shrugged, looking at her suitcase on the floor.

It was then that Ceili remembered she was only in her undergarments.

“Out!” she yelled. “Out!”

The man scrambled out the door as she slammed it in his face. Taking a deep breath she calmed her pounding heart before focusing on the job at hand.

“Shower, clothes, pack.” she breathed as she made her way to the bathroom.

She knew she was late, late on her first day at that and she had just crotch-elbowed her drive and given him a bloody nose. To be honest she was surprised she still remembered her defensive training. Turning off the water, Ceili towelled herself off and changed into a simple beige pair of pants and a loose cardigan. She would have to go shopping later for more appropriate work wear. Once she had all her things together, she did one last check of the room and then reopened the room door. Her drive stood leaning against the opposite wall.

“I want to apologize.” she blurted out.

“It’s fine.” he smiled, almost too politely.

She followed him down the lift and out to the same black jaguar as the day previous. She climbed in the back herself as the man threw her things in the trunk of the car.

“How did you get in my room?” she prodded, as the man pulled onto the road.

“Got a key from the front desk.”

“No one can just go up and ask for a key to someone’s room.”

“Your new boss can.” the driver smirked, pleased with himself.

They arrived back at the same white building as the day previous.

“You are to meet Mr. Holmes here. Your things will be brought to your accommodation where you will go tonight.” he explained.

Ceili rolled her eyes; there was no use in arguing with the man. Climbing out of the car she entered through the side door Anthea had brought her through the day previous. This time however, the room at the end of the hall wasn’t empty. The man she had seen the day previous, Mycroft Holmes, sat on the large couch facing a now lit fireplace, drink in hand.

“I don’t do for being kept waiting.” his rich English accent danced across the room towards her.

“I…” she began to speak.

“You are sorry, yes.” he chided, “just don’t let it happen again!”

Ceili swallowed and moved further into the room. Mycroft turned to face her, a grey three piece covering his shoulders. His face reflected concern when he met her eyes.

“What is it?” he quipped, fingering the glass in his hand.

“I’m afraid I’ve damaged your driver.” she breathed in reply.

His face melted into confused amusement.

“He has a bloody nose and my need to see a doctor if he wants children anytime soon.” she stated, her lips quivering, trying to keep a straight face. She really didn’t regret what she had done.

Mycroft’s mouth fell into a subtle smile and he shook his head.

“I think Andrea made the right choice. I could always trust her judgement.”

“Andrea? I thought her name was Anthea.” Ceili inquired.

“She pulled that one again did she.” he chuckled under his breath, standing from his seat on the couch.

From what Ceili could tell, he was slightly taller than her in her kitten heels, just past 6 foot or so. He walked around to face her, seeming to measure her up, but not in the way most men did. It was more like he was trying to decipher a puzzle.

“I truthfully didn’t mean to make such a horrible first impression today.” she mumbled as he continued to look at her.

“Must have been the jetlag.” she added.

“Quite.” he retorted, dropping her glass on the side table of one of the tall backed chairs.

Ceili watched him as he made a circuit of the room, seeming in thought. She wanted to ask him so many questions, but she knew better then to do that, the time wasn’t right. Just as he reached her side again, the ringing of a cellphone filled the room and he pulled the device out of his coat pocket, answering it with a flip of his thumb.

“Mycroft.” he spoke into the receiver, listening intently.

“Right. Yes. Of course. On my way.” he fired off in rapid succession before stashing the device again.

Ceili looked at him questioningly.

“Duty calls and so does your first test as my PA.” he smiled lightly, grabbing a dark black umbrella from beside the fireplace. Its handle was made of light coloured bamboo. He caught her studying it.

“One thing you will learn Ms. Barton is that you never know when it will rain in London. Always be prepared.” he commented, heading down the hallway she had just come from.

The jaguar stood outside the door, but upon closer inspection, Ceili concluded it was a different one then she had ventured in that morning, only a few hours previous. Climbing in the car next to Mycroft, on her left, she shut the door and found a phone in her lap.

“From Andrea.” the second man in the front seat explained.

Ceili picked up the phone, it felt heavy in her hand. She unlocked it with a swipe of her finger.

[Welcome Ceili ]

The screen read before a large paragraph appeared in front of it.

[Congrats. Today is your first day and this will be a start to something spectacular. This phone was my lifeline and now it is yours. All of Mycroft’s appointments are already in the scheduler and a list of tasks for you to complete is in the notes tab. There is also a number of information files for quick reference when necessary.  Good Luck. Andrea, aka. Anthea]

The car pulled away from the building and Ceili exited the paragraph finding the buttons Andrea had mentioned. In the scheduler it had a large block covering the morning marked ‘Important Business’ and then a break for lunch, followed by many smaller blocks labeled ‘Home Security’, ‘Consult with PM’, and ‘Check on Brother’. The finishing time was well after 8:00 p.m. Looking up from her phone, she watched Mycroft as he stared out at the passing traffic, his face a blank slate of emotion, his hands resting purposefully on top of the umbrella’s handle.

“How long did Andrea work for you?” she asked, trying to fill the silence.

“12 years.” he mumbled.

Soon after they arrived at the back of a building Ceili recognized all too well, The Palace of Westminster, the seat of the British Government. When the car stopped, Mycroft climbed out and Ceili kept pace behind him as they entered a locked door and passed a number of security checkpoints unhindered; one of the perks she guessed.

“How long do I have?” Mycroft called from over his shoulder as they waited at the bottom of the lifts.

She knew he probably already had the answer but she pulled out her phone and clicked on the scheduler.

“Two hours with lunch, three with no lunch.” she explained, “I can fetch you something if required.”

He nodded as he stepped onto the lift, hammering a button close to the top.

“How good are you at note taking?” he asked sternly.

“I have a class in short hand so I think fairly well.”

“Good.” he grunted, his face having warped into a mask, a blank slate of emotion.

Ceili knew this was his public mask, his persona. It was not the same man she had met that morning, this version of Mycroft meant business. The elevator dinged its arrival and Ceili followed him out and down the hall, thankful that her long legs meant she could match his stride. They entered a large meeting room at the end of the hall, crowded with men and a few women in business suits. Ceili felt suddenly very underdressed. Mycroft walked to the front of the room and spoke to a man who shook his hand, a smile on his face, Mycroft reflected this only momentarily. She jotted down everything that was said. Apparently the Iranian’s were threatening to launch a large number of missiles across their borders and these men needed Mycroft’s assistance on how best to tackle their advancements. She really wasn’t sure what conclusion they had come to in the end, but it was past noon before Mycroft stood to leave. She closed her file on the phone and stood to meet him at the door.

“What would you like me to get you?” she asked “Your next appointment is with home security.”

“Sandwich is fine.” he commented as they returned down the hall. “Home security is floor five.”

Ceili nodded and rushed down a set of side stairs taking two at a time when she could. Thankfully she had spotted a small grocery store across the street on their way in, so she dashed out of the building and across the street as Big Ben tolled the half hour. Stepping into the store she grabbed herself a bottle of water, a granola bar and a ham sandwich on white bread for Mycroft. Passing towards the cashier she grabbed a cold coke for him as well, in all probability he needed the caffeine.  Once her items had been paid for she ran back to the building and began to panic when she saw the line for security clearance.

“This way.” she heard a woman’s familiar voice.

Looking over her shoulder she saw Andrea waving her over. Ceili couldn’t have been more happy to see her.

“Security by-pass.” she gestured, “retina scan.”

She placed her eye against the sensor and the door clicked open. Ceili followed suit, the door clicking over.

“How did it know me?” she asked Andrea, heading for the stairs.

“We have all your information, we have everyone’s.” she laughed, before continuing down the hall.

Ceili took the stairs back up to the fifth floor and hit the landing just as she decided this job was going to expose her to way more than she ever wanted to know. She could hear a meeting going on a few metres to her right and spotted Mycroft amongst them. He spotted her and motioned for her to stay where she was.  Ceili obliged, hiding around the corner as she drank her water and practically swallowed the granola bar whole. It was the first time she had eaten all day. Watching her phone closely she waited till the last possible moment to interrupt the meeting, but if she didn’t they wouldn’t make their next appointment.

“Mr. Holmes.” she spoke, slowly.

All of the men lifted their eyes to look at her.

“Your next meeting, sir.” she explained.

Mycroft glanced at his pocket watch and nodded, excusing himself and joining her at the lifts. As soon as they were aboard and the doors closed Mycroft turned to her.

“Thank you. You tend to lose track of time with these things.” he explained.

“I waited till the last possible moment.” she replied.

Mycroft nodded.

Returning to the car, the climbed in the back and the car pulled off to their next destination.

“Cola?” she asked, offering Mycroft the cold beverage.

“Bless you.” he breathed, taking a long draught from the glass bottle and collapsing against the back of the seat, eyes closed.

“I also got you a ham sandwich if that interests you. I know it’s not the fancy lunch you are probably use to.” she shrugged, opening the packaged offering.

He opened his eyes and took half of the sandwich, the white bread squishing between his fingers. Watching him eat, Ceili saw the return of the man she had first met and maybe a little more. In the car he could drop his mask for a few moments and become human again, not the cold man who meant business. As he climbed out of the car, leaving the coke behind, she knew that it was the biggest responsibility and gift of her job, to see the real Mycroft Holmes.

Climbing the steps she followed him into 10 Downing Street and into the Prime Minister’s front hallway where they were greeted by his housekeeper.

“This way Mr. Holmes.” she gestured.

“Miss.” a young man called at the same time, drawing her attention.

She followed him into a side room where a tea set and biscuits had been laid out. The man poured her a cup and then left her to the silence of the room. She frowned upon seeing the tea white with milk, but she thought it ruder not to drink it so she brought the cup to her lips. The mixture ran smoothly over her tongue, the richness of the milk coating the inside of her stomach in a warm blanket, she sighed, letting the heat penetrate her insides. Quickly finishing the first cup, she poured herself a second; following what the young man had done for her. She was on her third cup when the man returned, announcing that the meeting had concluded. Ceili stood and met Mycroft at the front door where the car awaited to take them further onward.

“Where to?” the driver asked, when the doors had closed.

“It says, check on brother.” she read, looking to Mycroft.

“Yes.” he grimaced, “221B please.”

The car pulled away and joined the traffic back on the main road. The car was silent as they journeyed through the streets and Ceili could feel her eyes drooping from the mixture of tea and lack of adrenaline that now ran through her system, a PA’s sugar crash. They pulled onto a suburban side street and stopped outside a small café, its store-front shuttered for the night.

“Will be but a moment.” Mycroft explained, climbing out of the car.

Ceili watched him as he knocked on the door next to the café and an older woman answered it, inviting him in. At this point the driver and his companion climbed out of the vehicle to have a smoke, their lit cigarettes glowing in the starlight. Ceili rested her head against the door frame and tried her best to stay awake but soon her eyes dropped close and the world disappeared into silence.

The jolt of a car engine being shut off woke her from her sleep and it took her a couple moments of panic to discover where she was; in Mycroft’s car. The scenery outside however was not what she remembered. The café had been replaced by the façade of an old stone mansion, stained glass reflecting the warm glow of light from inside. Opening the car door she stumbled to the front door which had been thankfully left unlocked, the night had grown frigid. Stepping across the threshold she closed the door and locked it behind her with a large dead-bolt. A long tiled hallway led away from the door and around a corner to the left, a heavy wood door ajar at its turning point. As she neared the door she could hear the crackling of a fire and the murmur of soft music from a stereo. Pushing the door open she could glimpse Mycroft’s silhouette against the flickering flames.

“Dinner?” he spoke, not turning his head.

Ceili entered the room letting the door close behind her and moved towards the other seat by the fireplace opposite his. A tray of cheese and meats as well as a basket of bread sat on an ottoman between them. Ceili looked at him from across the spread.

“Please. Sit.” he gestured, typing on his phone with his other hand.

Ceili sat, her back sinking into the over plump cushion. She remained silent as Mycroft typed and only met his gaze when he had placed his phone on the arm of the chair beside him.

“Welcome to the Holmes family ancestral home,” he introduced, “as well as your new lodgings for the foreseeable future.”

Ceili looked around at the wooden floor and carved ceiling, a smile crossing her lips. Mycroft mirrored her smile before grabbing a piece of bread off the table and matching it with a slice of hard cheddar. She hesitated to join in. He looked at her and motioned with his eyes for her to join him. Ceili lent forward and cautiously picked up a piece of cured ham, resting it between her teeth as she chewed a piece of it, honey tones swamping her taste buds.

“I’m afraid I must apologize again.” Ceili frowned, her eyes dropping to the floor.

Mycroft arched his eyebrows, having partaken in his own piece of ham.

“You must not think me reliable with all this sleeping.” she explained, her voice catching. “Only my first day and I’ve let you down twice.”

Mycroft sighed, his hands coming together in a steeple in front of his lips. He looked at her and she met his gaze.

“Never doubt your actions,” he replied after a few moments, “and never be sorry.”

Ceili blinked at him.

“I have told my brother many times, but caring is not an advantage in this world.” he responded to her gaze, his eyes narrowing as he dropped his hands.

Ceili finished eating in silence, but her mind was full of words, images and observations that she so badly wanted to reply with, but she bit her tongue. Bidding Mycroft good night, she made her way to the large double wide staircase which she climbed. At the top of the stairs stood a door which Mycroft had told was hers. Stepping forward she opened the door and a large grey-blue coloured bedroom met her eyes. There was a small double bed and a chest of drawers as well as a fireplace which was crackling away happily. A door on the side wall stood ajar and an ensuite bathroom sat just beyond it with a large tiled shower. She spotted her luggage on the floor by the large window opposite which overlooked a large side garden. Changing into her pajamas she unpacked her things and then slid under the heavy silk duvet. She closed her eyes sighing deeply, as she fell asleep once more.

[END OF CHAPTER 1]


	2. Chapter 2: A Fear

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 2, the story continues!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading so far! Hope you are enjoying!

Ceili awoke to the sound of her phone’s alarm clock. She stretched as she glanced out the window at the warm June day, birds flying by her window. Sliding out of bed she turned on the shower before returning to smooth down the sheets. Once her bed was made she hoped in the now hot shower humming a song she had listened to the previous evening while cooking dinner. She had served Mycroft a lovely lamb pasta dish. Shutting off the water she dried herself off and then changed into a black business suit and white blouse, one she had bought on Oxford Street. Slipping on her heels she left the room and sprinted down the steps grabbing an oatmeal muffin from the kitchen and an apple from the fridge. She stood munching on both at the front door when Mycroft arrived dressed in a light brown checked three piece suit with her favorite maroon and blue tie.

“Morning.” she smiled as he stepped over the threshold.                                                                                            

“Morning indeed.” he nodded, returning her smile.

Hopping into the waiting car, Ceili outlined the day’s events like she did every morning.

“All meetings are at the Diogenes Club today,” she briefed, “lots of note taking for me then.”

Mycroft nodded as he stared out the window.

“First one is with the French Ambassador, then a three hour sit in with MI6, followed by lunch with the house representatives.” she dictated aloud. “Afternoon is with the German Ambassador, Swiss Ambassador and then the House of Lords want a phone conference over dinner hour.”

Mycroft nodded again, rubbing his temple with his right hand.

“After dinner is one last meeting with the Iranian committee again.” she concluded.

The car pulled up to the white building which had become all too familiar now, the Diogenes Club. Mycroft used it as his home base away from the country manor and invited the highest men in the country to share in its splendor. The biggest rule: no talking, just ignoring, a good place for thinking. Stepping out of the car Ceili followed Mycroft through the retiring room and into his office where the first meeting was already waiting.

\------

Ceili closed the door to the office as she slouched against it, her eyes blurred from staring to long at the small screen of her phone for twelve hours straight. Her stomach was silent, forgetting hours ago that it was hungry. The windows of the retiring room reflected the time outside, well past dark and the Diogenes Club was silent of movement, except for Mycroft finishing up his last voicemail. Dragging her feet across the room Ceili collapsed onto the couch in front of the fireplace, her feet dangling over the edge as her head fell to rest against the arm of it. She closed her eyes, trying to remove the tension headache that was beginning to flare up over her left eye. It was mere moments until she heard the soft click of the office door as it shut and Mycroft’s footsteps crossing the room. She didn’t open her eyes until she could feel the weight of his palms against the arm of the couch on either side of her head.

“I thought we had dealt with the whole sleeping problem.” he smiled wearily, his face hovering inches from hers.

“We did.” she sighed, smiling back, it had been five years since the first day she had met Mycroft Holmes.

“Shall we go then?” she added, moving to get up.

Mycroft did not move from the spot above her, his eyes studying her as they always did, a trait he and his brother shared.

“What are you deducing?” she asked, meeting his blue-grey eyes.

His face was serious but his eyes let on to something else. A hint in their depths she had yet to discover.

“Hmm?” he muttered, distracted, his glance moving to the fireplace.

“You had that look on your face.” she replied, sitting up now that Mycroft had shifted his posture.

Mycroft looked back at her, his brow furrowed, his mouth a straight line.

“Home?” she offered again.

She could see he was still distracted with the earlier business of his meetings; that and he had never worked well on an empty stomach and neither did she. Mycroft nodded, grabbing his much loved umbrella and headed towards the car. Stepping outside the confines of the Diogenes Club a bitter cold wind hit her full force, a chill running up her spine as she jumped in the car.

“What happened with the weather?” she shivered, as the car headed out of central London.

“Cold front most likely, calling for thundershowers.” the driver commented.

When they reached the manor house, Ceili still hadn’t gotten rid of the chill. Mycroft quickly retreated to his room and she headed to the kitchen, pulling out a can of Minestrone soup she had for emergencies. She stirred it till it was piping hot and then dished it into two mugs. Carefully she carried them to the front room where she sat and waited for Mycroft, sipping absent mindedly on her cup. When Mycroft appeared, he had changed into his country tweed wear. He inhaled deeply at the smell of the soup and made his way over to his chair, hesitating to sit. Instead of sitting he took off his jacket, something he rarely did and Ceili watched him with particular attention, her soup lowered to her lap. He turned toward the fireplace after draping his jacket over his chair and Ceili was able to see that his waistcoat was not plain, instead much like she could have guessed, a brilliant turquoise blue silk reflected in the lamp light along his back. Next he unpinned his white shirt sleeves, methodically rolling the cuff end over end, his fingers making quick work, exposing his bare forearms. Ceili had to consciously check that her jaw wasn’t on the floor; she blinked rapidly to knock herself back into reality. This was her boss. He rolled up his other sleeve in the same fashion and then bent down in front of the fireplace piling on logs in a small pyramid before setting them alight with a match. The warm crackling and wall of heat soon enveloped both of them.

“There,” he spoke, brushing his hands on a cloth hung by the fire pokers, “much better.”

When he turned to his seat he caught her looking at him and his face fell into a smirk, a childish sparkle in his eye. Something she hadn’t seen before. Sitting in his chair he picked up the mug and placed it between his lips.

“Interesting way to eat soup.” he commented, after sipping from the cup.

“Use to do it all the time back at home.” she replied, “Though I guess it’s not English proper is it?”

Mycroft shook his head, taking another drink of his soup and staring at the growing flames.

“Did you ever do this with Andrea?” Ceili asked, after she had finished her soup.

He looked at her from the corner of his eyes.

“No.” he spoke to the flames. “With her it was strictly business, always had that phone in her hand.”

Ceili watched his face change from thought, to concern, to the mask she knew all too well and back to thought.

“It wasn’t her fault. MI6 put too much on her plate along with being my aide. That is why I asked her to find someone to replace her. I was distracting her from the other missions that really needed her services, the ones away from home.” he continued.

“So Andrea is an employee of MI6. Wow.” she breathed, setting her cup on the side table to her left.

Mycroft continued to stare at the fire as a distant rumble announced the expected thunderstorm.

“Do you usually sit by the fire with your aides then?” she spoke, breaking the silence, a smile hinting at her lips; she was venturing into new territory.

“Only after long days.” he replied, his gaze turning to her, the hint of sarcasm he used with his brother evident on his face.

Ceili nodded her acknowledgement as she stood to grab their empty cups. As she motioned to grab Mycroft’s a large crack of thunder crashed overhead causing her to drop the cups, the pieces littering the floor.

“I’m sorry.” she breathed, her hands and voice shaking as lightning streaked across the window.

She knelt down to pick up the pieces her hands clumsy as they shook uncontrolled. Mycroft knelt down from his chair and met her gaze.

“Are you scared?” his eyebrows arched with concern.

“It’s silly really, a childhood fear.” she laughed shaking, getting to her feet and running to the kitchen; disposing of the broken cups.

Leaning against the kitchen counter she tried to control her breathing but to no avail as another crack of thunder shook the house. She squeezed her eyes shut, her knuckles turning white against the countertop.

“Ceili.” Mycroft’s voice spoke from her right, a warm hand touched her shoulder.

He had said her first name. She opened her eyes, hesitant to meet his gaze from embarrassment.

“It is not a silly fear. Everyone has a weakness.” he spoke softly.

“Mine just happens to be the weather.”

“Sleep in my room tonight. I’ll help you deal with this.”

“Do you invite your aides to your bedroom as well?”

“No, but Sherlock had the same fear when he was small and I cured him. It has to do with positive connotations.”

“Positive what?” she laughed, turning to face him.

“Making a fear a good experience.” he explained, meeting her gaze.

Another crash shook the glass window panes and Ceili placed a death grip on Mycroft’s forearms as she gasped for air.

“Let us go upstairs.” he explained, his voice filled with calming, familiar authority.

“Upstairs.” she echoed following him, her hand in his grasp.

Once they were on the upper landing he led her past her room to his at the end of the railing lined hall. He opened the door and she found herself in a modestly decorated bedroom with a king-sized bed facing a large panel of windows. A chest of drawers and a wardrobe sat to her left and the entrance to a washroom stood on her right. Mycroft shut the door as another rumble of thunder shook the house and lightning lit the dark room. Ceili stood where she was, shaking as he lit the room lamps and then shut a pair of heavy curtains over the large window, plunging the room into a muted darkness.

“Sit on the bed.” he ordered.

Ceili walked over to the bed and sat on the edge, sinking into the sheets.

“For this to work I need you to trust me. Do you trust me?” he asked, approaching her.

“With my life.”

Mycroft nodded.

“With my brother I used chocolate with you I will have to discover a reward.” he explained. “The theory is, every time you hear thunder, the something bad, I will give you something good instead.”

Ceili wasn’t sure how it was going to work, she had been afraid of storms since she could remember. When they had occurred in the past, she had been lucky enough that Mycroft hadn’t been around to witness her panic attacks. At night she wouldn’t sleep and during the day she would excuse herself to the washroom until the storm blew over, but now he knew. A rumble echoed through the house, the lightening masked by the heavy curtains.

“One” Mycroft called from behind her.

She was momentarily distracted but her hands and body still shook. Mycroft stepped closer to her. The next rumble came and then a third and fourth. Each time Mycroft would step closer. Soon, Ceili found herself wanting to hear the thunder. Another crash and then another, soon she found herself face to face with him, her breath shaking, but her hands and body still. Another rumble, this time more quiet, and his arms were around her, embracing her, protection. She sighed deeply against his shoulder.

“Sherlock liked the hug better too.” his voice echoed in her ear.

They remained in the embrace until no more thunder was heard and Mycroft released her. She was slumped against him, asleep. Picking her legs up, he lifted her onto one of the pillows and took off her suit jacket and shoes, tossing them to the floor. Removing his own shoes he climbed onto the bed beside her, closing his eyes.

[END OF CHAPTER 2]


	3. Chapter 3: First Contact

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Forgot to mention, this story takes place during and after the events of Season 3. Hope you're enjoying.

When she awoke the next morning Ceili squinted at the stream of sunlight shifting through the heavy curtains of Mycroft’s room. Rolling over onto her other side she came face to face with him, his blue-grey eyes watching her quietly. He was still in his waistcoat and suit pants, his toes just visible in his black socked feet.

“Good morning.” he whispered across the small void.

“Morning.” she replied, her voice cracking from being dry.

He smiled, raising his right hand to brush a loss strand of hair off her face. Ceili closed her eyes at the warm feeling of his skin against hers for that small moment. He moved to draw back his hand but she caught his wrist, placing his hand over her beating heart. Mycroft’s eyes were wide with confusion. She met his eyes. It wasn’t confusion, it was fear. His hand relaxed against the material of her blouse as she breathed slowly, spreading her hand over his.

“Thank you for being there for me last night.” she breathed. “My personal umbrella.”

Mycroft for once was speechless with her, but not his usual ignorance, this was pure speechlessness, she had caught him off guard.

“It is the least I could do.” he replied, blinking his eyes rapidly, trying to regain focus.

“You’re scared.” she whispered, she could feel his rapid pulse on his wrist.

Mycroft closed his eyes, his mouth falling in a straight line.

“I’m your boss.” he murmured, his hand lifting away from her.

“You want more than that. I see it.” she retorted. “Deep down you crave some form of companionship.”

Mycroft opened his eyes, the hint she had seen before flickering just below the surface.

“You don’t want to go against what you have told your brother. Loving, caring for anyone is a weakness.”

Mycroft blinked his reply, a resounding “yes”.

“But you do care. Every day of the last five years since I met you I’ve seen it. Last night I saw it.”

Mycroft sighed and dropped his gaze.

“With Andrea it was purely professional, she had other priorities and so did you, but you and I have built something more, you just needed the right person to take that last leap. I see it in your eyes.”

“You read me better then Sherlock.” he muttered, meeting her gaze again.

“You are good at hiding Mr. Holmes.” she whispered. “But not good enough around me.”

Mycroft arched his eyebrows in amusement.

“Let’s play a game,” she smiled, “deductions, like you and Sherlock play.”

Mycroft seemed intrigued at the sudden proposal.

“Give me your hand.” she ordered, offering her own.

Mycroft took it, following her hands with his eyes. She placed his hand on the buttons of her white blouse.

“What do you deduce from these.” she asked. Running his hands down them as she slowly undid each one.

“White buttons, plastic, made in Asia, China most likely.” he breathed, “Good stitching, so high end.”

“Very good.” she rewarded, moving his hand to the outer region of her stomach, where it curved to meet her waist.

“How about here?” she asked.

Mycroft hesitated, his warm hand resting gently against her skin. Methodically, he began exploring the area with his fingers, touching the edge of her bra and down to the high waist band of her skirt.

“Smooth, soft, supple,” he replied, “and I want to explore more.”

Ceili blinked at him and he met her gaze, the glint, pure happiness finally appearing at the surface. Mycroft was allowing himself enjoyment and hers; he was openly allowing himself to have pleasure. Lifting his hand off of her she placed it over his eyes.

“New round, no peaking.” she laughed.

Mycroft beamed like a little boy on his birthday.

Slowly Ceili pulled off her blouse and let it and her bra fall to the floor. Next she tugged off her skirt and let it join the pile. Covering her lower half with the top sheet of the bed she slipped off her underwear and placed them in front of Mycroft, the black lace stark contrast to the white sheets.

“Ok.” she smiled, touching the back of his hand.

The first thing he saw was her black lace panties and he studied them intensely. Once he had observed every inch of them his glance moved to her naked form next to him.

“This round is more difficult.” she chided. “You have to discover where those came from.”

Mycroft looked at the black lace and then back at her. She knew he already had the answer, it was a rather obvious one, but she wanted to see what he would do in his new element.

Breathing slowly he placed his hand on her stomach again like before. She watched him as his fingers danced along her skin. He moved his hand up her side to where her bra band had been and he followed the red mark it had left around and up her back. The feeling of his warm hands on her back sent an excited chill down her spine and her nipples hardened in response. Mycroft’s hands moved then from her back to her breasts, cupping one in his warm grasp, seeming to study the texture and heaviness in his fingers, her hardened nipple resting against his fingertips. Taking the hardened peak between his thumb and index he massaged it slowly, a wave of pleasure arched through her a muted moan escaped her lips. He watched her reaction and repeated the motion as Ceili fisted the sheets under her left hand her right arm clutching the pillow above her head. She met his gaze as her chest rose and fell in heavy breaths; she wanted his lips on hers. With her right hand she reached over and pulled his head towards her and their lips touched, Ceili dragging her hands through his hair as they kissed over and over. Mycroft moved from her lips to her neck, losing the last of his propriety. This was the hidden Mycroft, the man, the lover. His breath caressed her jaw bone as her hands laced with the silk of his waistcoat, the turquoise glittering in the sunlight. As he caressed her neck Ceili made quick work of the waistcoat and he stopped only momentarily to throw it and his dress shirt to the floor before returning to meet her lips. Ceili’s hands explored his chest and stomach, the small hairs disguising a number of scars, battle wounds. Mycroft climbed over her as he ventured back down her neck and the sensation of him straddling her made her shiver with delight, her breath increasing against him.

“Have you come any closer to a result?” she breathed, her eyes flirting with him.

Mycroft beamed.

“I believe…I am getting….closer.” he replied, sucking her left nipple between each word.

She squirmed under him, breathless words escaping her lips, incoherently.

“This looks promising.” he murmured, trailing a line down her stomach, pressing his lips just above the line of the sheet bellow her navel.

“I do believe so.” she added, her fingers messing with his hair.

Shuffling down the bed he found her legs and traced them up to just below the sheet, his fingers skirting under the edges, tickling the insides of her thighs.

“Oh dear god!” Ceili breathed out, writhing against him, her eyes wide with desperation, her thighs rubbing together for relief.

“There is no god.” he growled playfully, “just me.”

“My…croft.” she cooed, his tone was pure pleasure to her ears.

“What would you like?” he mused, his voice echoing the authority she was so used to hearing, and loved.

“What are my options?” she inquired, breathless.

“Interrogation or immediate action.” he smiled, his eyes mischievous.

“Interrogation, Interrogate me Mr. Holmes!” she begged.

Mycroft glanced at her.

“My, we are a dirty girl.” he smiled.

She squeezed her right nipple sensually, biting her lower lip in reply. Mycroft’s eyes squinted angrily as he watched.

“First question then.” he ordered his voice monotone. “Who do you want?”

Ceili bit her lip harder.

“Tell me.” he demanded, his hand sliding up her leg.

Ceili shook her head.

“Alright.” he breathed, his fingers skimming her pelvis.

She wiggled against him and he pulled away.

“Tell me.” he sneered.

“You!” Ceili pleaded, her insides throbbing, yearning for his touch.

“Good girl.” he smiled, his fingers mingling with her wetness as he explored her thoroughly.

Moaning escaped her lips as he explored, her eyes closing in pure ecstasy. He pulled away after a few moments, smelling his fingers deeply before touching them to his lips.

“Second question.” he breathed. “What do you want me to do to you?”

Ceili stared at him, biting her lower lip and grabbing his wet hand.

“I….want….you….to….fuck….me.” she mouthed, sucking each finger gingerly with her tongue.

Mycroft crawled back up to her, his mouth mixing with the sweet saltiness of her own. He pulled off his pants and threw them to the side, his grey boxer-briefs covered with his sweat. He released the hold on her lips and leaned into her ear.

“I will not…fuck you…Ms. Barton.” he growled. “I will make love to you!”

He caressed her neck as she ran her hands down his well-muscled back, her hands slick with his sweat. She reached the waistband and pulled the fabric, sliding it easily down his legs. Lifting himself Mycroft pulled off the undergarment and sent it flying to the floor with his other clothing, Ceili’s hands resting on his now bare behind. As he moved to her lips once more, biting and nipping them, she could feel his hardness against her stomach and her heart sang with desire to have him even closer. She moved her hips upwards towards him, an action he mirrored as a moan escaped his own lips.

“What do you want, Mycroft Holmes?” she panted against his lips.

“You.” he replied, “all of you!”

She breathed against his cheek as a tear escaped his eye. She kissed his check as he pushed the sheet out from under him, their bare skin now fully touching.

“I’ll help you through it all.” she whispered as she traced his spine with her fingers, “You have all of me.”

Mycroft met her lips, their tongues intermingling as he entered her. She gasped against him, her hips rising up to take him in. He moved slowly, supporting his weight on his forearms, his hips rising and falling in a dance above her as she matched each step, the pressure inside her continuing to build as he moved, their eyes locking as they panted from exertion. She rocked her hips faster against him, her breasts rubbing pleasurably against his chest. Her hands dug into the skin on his back as the momentum seemed to be reaching its breaking point. With a thrust and then another Mycroft shifted and shaped into the man she knew, then the man of the British government and then to the new man, the lover, the carer.

“Mycroft.” she gasped against his cheek.

He closed his eyes and with one large thrust he called her name as they both contracted around each other in a cluster of light and waves of pleasure and ecstasy. Mycroft collapsed onto her as she caressed his cheek and ear, her body still spasming around him in rhythm with her heart. When her body had relaxed, he pulled out of her and kissed her gently on the lips before collapsing onto his back, eyes closed.

Ceili watched him silently, his naked form forming valleys and peaks above the sheets.

“Did you deduce correctly?” she sighed, glancing at him.

Mycroft opened his eyes and turned his head.

“You are a bad influence.” he smiled meekly. 

She watched as the sweat glistened against his body, his chest rising and falling as the sun grew brighter.

“Want to shower?” he invited, offering his facilities.

“Alright.” she sighed, pushing herself up off the sheets, her legs weak from exertion.

Stumbling to the bathroom she turned on the steaming hot water and stepped into the large walk-in shower, letting the water cascade over her shoulders as she poured soap in her hands, making a thick lather.

“May I help?” Mycroft’s voice echoed from the shower entrance.

Ceili smiled as she let him massage the soap into her shoulders and then her breasts. He paused there, holding each one in his palms.

“I like these.” he whispered against her neck as he squeezed them between his hands.

Ceili lent her head back against his shoulder as he caressed her neck once again, her breasts becoming taut against his grasp. She stepped backwards pushing him against the tiled wall, rubbing herself against his already growing hardness.

“You are definitely a man to recon with.” she breathed.

“This time it’s my turn.” he growled, his authoritative voice rising once more.

Ceili closed her eyes; she would do anything for that voice.

“You are mine. You will do what I say.”

“Yes sir.” she cooed, looking up at him.

“You will not make a noise until I allow you.” he ordered, his hand moving downwards along her stomach until he reached her cleft once more.

His fingers danced in and around her, Ceili biting her lip as she desperately tried to keep silent, her body close to climax, shaking with frustration. Just as she felt she might gain relief he stopped.

She groaned loudly.

“Did I say you could speak?” he questioned.

“No.” she breathed, her chest gasping for air.

“Turn around, hands on the wall.” he ordered.

Ceili met his gaze, she trusted him, and his small smile let her know this was play for his pleasure. Placing her hands on the cold tile she shut her eyes and waited. Mycroft’s fingers made contact with her skin as he traced the path of her spine to the point of her tailbone, his hand sliding over her bottom as he squeezed it; a chill ran up her spine as she clawed at the wall.

“What will your punishment be then?” he muttered, pressing himself against her, his fingers invading her again.

Ceili bit her lip, trying to relax against him as her body tightened, yearning for release.

“Shall I have you here and now?” he growled in her ear, nipping at her earlobe.

She shuddered, expectantly.

Placing his hands on top of hers he pressed his leg between hers spreading them open. The cold room air swirling around them sent a chill over her. Mycroft breathed slowly against her ear and intertwined his fingers with hers as he entered her again. The feeling this time was different, Ceili felt fuller with him, like he could reach deeper within her. He began to move in and out against her as he caressed her neck and earlobe. She panted heavily whispering her love for him and begging him for more. The pressure in the pit of her stomach built faster and faster as he continued, his ragged breath reflecting his waning strength.

“Let me help.” she breathed as he entered her more slowly.

His breath sounded defeated as he pulled out.

“Your mind is stronger than your body right now.” she replied to his defeated look.

Pushing him against the opposite wall she forced him down into a sitting position, knees up, his hardness between them. Straddling his legs she lowered herself onto his lap and met his lips as he moaned against her.

“You make me so weak.” he breathed as she began to move above him, slowly building a rhythm on her knees.

Soon he found his release and she soon after, falling against his shoulder, truly spent. When she felt like she could stand Mycroft helped her off and the two finished their shower, changing into new clothes, Ceili in her own room. Meeting in the kitchen she grabbed an apple, twisting the stem between her fingers as he made tea on the stove.

“How did you discover my positive reward by the way?” she asked, breaking off the tip.

“It was thanks to a ken observation Sherlock made once or twice.” he replied, nonchalant.

“What would that be?” she retorted, leaning across the large island.

“Chemistry, bodily reactions, and reflexes.” he explained, transferring the hot water into the china tea kettle.

Ceili was amused.

“I observed you, the way you naturally turn towards me in times of high stress. Your glance always looking for my guidance when you are unsure of something.” he continued, as they entered the large dining room and sat at the table.

“Shall I be mother?” he offered.

Ceili nodded, as he poured out the milk first, followed by the steaming liquid.

“It could easily have been that like Sherlock you see me as a representation of safety and security, the whole country does.” he snarked. “But right before I embraced you I saw it and again this morning, and perhaps in the past if I had looked; but your pulse quickened and your eyes dilated, giving away your attraction for me.”

“It was nothing at first.” Ceili sighed, sipping from her cup. “This has been years of me giving you my life and knowing that you wouldn’t, you couldn’t return it.”

Mycroft closed his eyes, drinking from his own cup before he spoke.

“I’ve had little in the way of relationships Ceili,” he explained, “and the ones I did never last.”

“What about the ring?” she mentioned, the gold glinting on his finger.

The ring was on his right ring finger and she had never seen him without it, she had never questioned it either, till now.

“Another failed relationship.” he explained, staring at his hand, “but not my own.”

“Who’s then?” she replied, her eyebrows furrowed.

“My parents.” he shrugged, an unnatural movement.

“Oh.” she breathed, staring at the bottom of her tea cup.

“He cheated on her with another woman, Sherlock found out. So I kept his ring when they split.”

“A reminder of what opening up to caring did to your mother?”

“It tore her apart, I held us together.” he stated, balling his right hand in a fist.

“Isn’t it time you tried to move on? I know I have no right to say it.” Ceili offered.

Mycroft nodded and stood from the table.

“What’s our schedule for today?” he asked, his governmental mask falling over his features.

Ceili sighed; she had stepped too far once again. Standing from her own chair she pulled the phone from her pocket, scrolling through the long list of meetings that had invaded their intimate space.


	4. Chapter 4: Oh Brother

Riding in the car to the Diogenes Club she was deep in thought, scrolling mindlessly through emails on her phone. She had been right; all along he had been studying, observing her, like his brother.

“Shall we visit your brother later then?” she added as they turned past Trafalgar Square.

“It has been quite some time.” he nodded.

Ceili entered it into her scheduler. She had met Sherlock only in passing as she waited for Mycroft. She had yet to be allowed in his most trusted circle around his brother, the only other person who shared that space was Sherlock’s flatmate, John Watson. From one of the information files Andrea had given her she knew the ins and outs of Dr. Watson’s life and service to the country; she hoped to get to know him more for herself as a result. Climbing stiffly of the Jaguar she followed Mycroft into the Club, ready for what the rest of the day would entail.

\----

As far as afternoons went, hers was comparably boring to the events of the morning hours and she spent most of her short hand note taking reflecting on what had happened and what it meant for her and Mycroft. As he stood talking to the Scottish representatives for security she watched his mannerisms like he must with her. His shoulders were held upright and his chest forward exuding confidence, yet at the same time he fiddled with a paper weight on the desk, showing his relaxed opinion on the topic at hand. He was doing well to represent the compromise the situation garnered, the Scottish were a difficult bunch to deal with; there was historical evidence to prove that. Finishing the meeting he ushered the men out, glancing at her momentarily with a twinkling and then inviting the next meeting in. So that was how they would be. There would be work and there would be play and the two wouldn’t meet. She was ok with that, for now.

As the sun began to set outside the office windows the last meeting was adjourned and Mycroft collapsed against the desk a sigh escaping his throat.

“We can postpone your brother’s place.” she offered, standing from her chair.

Mycroft rubbed his temples like he did from habit and closed his eyes temporarily.

“No.” he breathed. “I can’t put it off much longer or he will definitely get himself into some kind of trouble.”

Walking across the room she opened the door the retiring room.

“After you then.” she motioned.

Mycroft pushed himself up off the desk and brushed past her, letting his hand trail her arm as he did. She smiled and shut the door behind herself as she followed him out to the car.

“221B.” he announced to the driver as soon as she was seated in the vehicle.

Moments later Ceili found herself in front of the now familiar café. Mycroft climbed out and walked up to the door like he always did, but then he paused returning to the car and opening the door.

“Join me.” he invited, offering his hand.

Ceili was shocked, but took his offer, stepping out onto the pavement and up to the doorstep. Gingerly Mycroft rang the buzzer, straightening the door knocker while they waited. A woman, the same one Ceili had seen many times before greeted them.

“Mycroft!” she beamed, “Do come in, he is just upstairs.”

Mycroft crossed the threshold and she followed close behind, nodding to the woman who seemed rather shocked to see her. Climbing the two sets of stairs they reached an open doorway, the sound of the men’s familiar voices echoing into the foyer. Mycroft entered unhindered, but Ceili remained behind, hesitant to upset the balance.

“Brother dear, how nice of you to drop by.” Sherlock’s voice echoed sarcastically.

“Thought I should check to ensure you were still alive.” Mycroft retorted.

“Don’t you have minions for that?” Sherlock huffed. Ceili could feel the eye roll from where she stood.

An awkward silence fell then, only the sound of typing on a computer signaled that anyone was still there.

“There’s something different about you.” Sherlock spoke, curiosity in his voice.

“Why would you say that?” Mycroft shrugged off, trying to change the subject.

“I can see it.” Sherlock concluded, “John, do you see it too?”

Silence again, this time the typing had stopped also.

“Nope.” John’s mellow voice chimed.

“There’s something, but what?” he murmured.

Ceili stepped into the room then, past the doorframe, meeting John’s eyes over his laptop.

“I see it now Sherlock.” John mentioned, blinking at her.

“What?” Sherlock blurted, jerking his gaze to follow John’s. “Oh.”

Sherlock’s eyes were like his brother’s, inquisitive and deeper than anything she had ever experienced. His eyebrows were arched in amusement.

“Sherlock.” Mycroft spoke matter-of-factly. “May I formally introduce my PA, Ms. Barton.”

Ceili inclined her head.

“Pleasure to meet you properly.” she smiled.

“Indeed.” Sherlock replied, turning his attention to Mycroft and then back to her.

After much back and forth, Sherlock’s eyes landed on his brother, eyebrows arched. Mycroft met him with the same gaze.

“I know what you are thinking,” Mycroft sighed, “and what you are about to say, so don’t.”

Sherlock smirked, seeming to weight the options of listening to his older brother or not. The whole time John sat watching and now he looked utterly confused.

“May I at least spell it out for poor John?” Sherlock begged, seeing John’s vacant expression.

“Spell it out?” John huffed. “She’s his new PA, what more is there?”

Sherlock ran his fingers through his loose curls.

“Anthea was his PA.” John added, “nothing more there either.”

“In both cased you are wrong John.” Sherlock chided, “Especially the current one.”

Sherlock met Ceili’s gaze and motioned for her to step forward. She complied, stopping next to the table where John sat. Mycroft looked at her for only a moment, but Sherlock saw it, adding fuel to his ego.

“Don’t you see it John?” Sherlock beamed, giddy as a child at Christmas.

“Still no.” John shrugged.

“You are so unperceptive.” Sherlock sighed. “Mycroft found himself a goldfish!”

Ceili stared at Sherlock blankly and Mycroft’s grip on the sofa caused his knuckles to go white. Sherlock studied his brother’s reaction and cleared his throat.

“Perhaps the wrong word choice.” he smirked.

Mycroft only glared.

“Tea anyone?” the older woman’s voice called from the door.

“Sure, Mrs. Hudson.” John replied, standing to help her in the kitchen.

Seeing the look on Mycroft’s face, Mrs. Hudson paused.

“You two arguing again?” she sighed. “Never changes.”

“He’s huffy because I called his new play thing a goldfish.” Sherlock shrugged.

“Plaything?” Ceili mouthed, offended.

“William Sherlock Scott Holmes!” Mycroft growled, standing from his chair, his hands shaking.

Sherlock’s eyes reflected those of a little boy who had just been caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

“I will not have you speak that way to someone I hold in high esteem.” he breathed, “Especially not her.”

Mrs. Hudson and John looked from Mycroft to Ceili and back, the realization dawning on them at the same moment.

“Sherlock’s actually right?” John blurted.

Mycroft shrugged, defeated from all sides, a hand to his temple as he sat back in the chair he had occupied.

“Well I’m glad.” Mrs. Hudson smiled, patting Ceili on the arm.

“When were you going to tell me?” Sherlock pouted.

“This has only been a recent change.” Mycroft sighed. “That and I don’t have to tell you every aspect of my life.”

“But you expect me to?” Sherlock prodded.

Ceili turned her attention to John and Mrs. Hudson in the kitchen, stepping into the fluorescent lit space to offer her help. John looked up as she entered.

“He can be so insensitive sometimes.” John sighed. “I’d apologize for him if it helps.”

Ceili shrugged.

“Can I help?” she asked.

Mrs. Hudson looked up, amusement on her face.

“Oh and a foreigner too.” she beamed.

“I wouldn’t necessarily call a Canadian, foreign.” Sherlock commented, leaning against the kitchen doorframe.

Ceili met his gaze, trying to get a read on him but to no avail. He on the other hand seemed to be mental note taking.

“We should go.” Mycroft spoke from the sitting area.

“But you haven’t had tea yet!” Mrs. Hudson pouted.

“Perhaps another time. Come.” he beckoned, heading for the stairs.

Ceili nodded to John and Mrs. Hudson and turned to follow Mycroft, Sherlock directly behind her. As she reached the threshold to the main outside door Sherlock caught up to her, placing his hand on her shoulder. Ceili turned to face him.

“So you and Mycroft.” he commented a smile on his face.

“Me and Mycroft what?” she replied, her face blank.

“He won’t tell me a thing.” Sherlock conceded, whining like a toddler.

“Nor should he have to.” she retorted.

“Please!” he begged. “Just tell me when this all happened.”

“Use your skills.” Ceili smiled, crossing her arms and leaning against the doorframe.

Sherlock seemed flummoxed at the suggestion, but intrigued none the less as he stared at her.

“Got anything?” she chided, “I do have a car waiting.”

Sherlock looked from her to the car and back.

“From what I can conclude this happened less than 24 hours ago. Though for you it has been a longer process.” he concluded.

“You’d be correct.” Ceili replied. “But you missed on the detail.”

“What detail?” he retorted.

Ceili lent towards him her lips against his ear.

“I screwed your brother twice this morning. Which is what changed his mind.” she whispered.

Sherlock’s eyes were wide with disbelief and his jaw was slack as she turned away from him and entered the car.

“What is wrong with him now?” Mycroft sighed, seeing Sherlock’s face.

“I told him how I changed your mind about me.” Ceili smirked, as the car pulled away.


	5. Chapter 5: By the Fire

As the car ventured out of town Ceili became more and more restless.

“He called me a goldfish and a play thing.” she growled, punching the car seat.

Mycroft turned to look at her.

“Please tell me I am more than that to you or is that how you see all your relations with women?” she begged. “You didn’t deny it.”

“Sherlock was using my own words out of context.” he sighed.

“Explain then.” she demanded.

“Goldfish is a term I’ve used in the past to reference the general populace, the status quo.” he explained. “But Sherlock is very wrong on seeing you as one of them, you are far too smart.”

“Play thing?”

“In my younger years I had a few, but only to make connections, climb the ladder.” he sighed. “Sherlock can’t speak; he has been just as manipulative with his relationships.”

“That still doesn’t explain it away.”

“You are worth far more and mean so much more than any of those women. Sherlock couldn’t see your true worth to me.”

“What would that be?”

“My freedom.” he whispered against her ear, as the car pulled up to the manor house.

“Was Andrea one of your play things?” she inquired as they climbed the steps to the front door.

“No.” Mycroft replied, stepping across the threshold. “She was actually my first non-play thing, if you want me to put it bluntly.”

Ceili followed him into the sitting room.

“When Andrea came around I was much older, I had solidified my place in the government.” he explained, pouring himself a dram of port. “She was also a co-worker and a member of my team.”

“So you couldn’t risk anything even if you’d wanted to?” Ceili sighed.

“No I couldn’t and there wasn’t.”

Ceili collapsed back into the chair as Mycroft sat across from her.

“Your brother is a lot like you and yet so much less tolerable.” she mused aloud.

Mycroft raised his eyebrows over his glass.

Ceili smiled back at him as he drank until he placed the empty glass on his side table. She stood from her chair then, walking over to him, placing her hands on the arms of the chair and leaning in to kiss his port flavoured lips. He met her advances and cupped her head with his left hand. She pulled away and gazed into his blue-grey eyes.

“I have to apologize for being so protective and greedy.” she breathed.

“I am just as protective and greedy.” he growled back, running his hands up her arms.

“I want to treat you for your good behaviour then.” she flirted, whispering it against his ear.

Mycroft breathed heavily as he met her gaze and watched her lower herself to his knee level, running her hands along his thighs, the smooth woven cotton fabric sliding effortlessly under her fingers. Keeping his gaze, Ceili ran her hands back up to his waistband, undoing the button and zipper closure, pulling it downwards to give room to access him. Her left hand slid into his pants as she bit her lower lip sensually. Mycroft hardened against her hand in response.

“Good boy.” she cooed, placing pressure against it with her hand.

Mycroft moaned, clutching the arms of the chair and squeezing his eyes shut, his back arching towards her. Unbuttoning his braces, she pulled his pants down further, his hardness escaping its enclosure straining against his briefs.

“All mine.” she breathed, possessively.

Mycroft’s chest rose and fell. His eyes full of expectation and reverence.

Gingerly her hands crept up to his waist and she pulled the tightened fabric away, his member springing upwards against her fingers. She ran her fingers up its length, before placing her hands on either side of his hips, pulling herself toward him, her hot breath against his soft skin. Mycroft closed his eye as he reveled in the moment, running his hands through her hair. She kissed the base of his shaft and trailed it all the way to the head where she took the tip into her mouth and rolled it with her tongue. Mycroft shivered against her, his tangled hands rooting deeper in her hair. Slowly she took him into her mouth to the back of her throat and out again as his breath grew heavier and heavier and grunts and growls escaped his lips.

“You.” he breathed.

She smiled up at him, malleable under her as she increased her momentum, clawing her fingers against his buttocks. He tensed against her, his hands digging deep into the arm chair. She moved over him, her teeth skimming his shaft as she worked. He tensed again and again in waves as his member tighten further and further against her lips until she knew he couldn’t go any further. With one final motion he released against her, his body convulsing against the back of the chair as his back arched in ecstasy. Ceili’s mouth filled with warm saltiness as it ran down her chin.

“You will be my downfall.” he breathed, pulling her up to meet his eyes, “I can’t deny you.”

Ceili swallowed as Mycroft met her lips, his tongue cleaning the mess off her chin as he supported her head with his left hand. Grabbing her waistband with his right he pulled her onto his lap as they kissed deeply, Ceili’s hands mingling in his hair.

“You make me so weak.” he whispered again, against her lips.

“You make me strong.” she whispered back.

Pushing herself off his lap she helped him re-dress before they climbed the stairs. Ceili moved to enter her own room but Mycroft kept a tight grip on her hand as he led her into his room. Stripping down he showered and crawled under the covers, joining her in the bed. She hand undressed while he was in the bathroom and slid under the white silk sheets. Mycroft sighed and closed his eyes as his head sank into the pillow. Ceili rested her head on his chest, her fingers dancing across his stomach as she fell into a deep sleep.

She woke up the next morning her head still on his chest as it rose and fell slowly against her cheek. Her hand lay cupped over his stomach and she dared not move it for fear of waking him. She observed her hand on his naked body and was still shocked that she was where she was. She really wasn’t sure how she had managed to build a relationship with one of the most powerful men in the British Government, let alone a man who had little to no experience in relationships in the first place. Mycroft’s toes curled under the blanket and she felt his breathing pause as he woke. Next thing she felt was his right hand running through her hair.

“Morning.” she murmured, turning over to face him.

“Morning.” he smiled, his right hand now stroking her bare shoulder.

She stared into his still sleepy eyes, marveling at the colours of his irises, they seemed like drifting storm clouds across her vision.

“Today is Sunday.” he commented, with an increased exuberance.

“Your day off.” she replied, fingering his chest hair. “What’s your plan?”

“I was thinking a picnic out in the garden.” he suggested.

“I’ll throw something together for you.” she offered, moving to get up. “You can finish reading that book of yours.”

Mycroft caught her wrist.

“You are getting a day off too.” he ordered, squinting sternly at her.

Ceili sighed with a smile.

“When I applied for this job I was told no holidays.” she teased.

“Then think of it as keeping me entertained.” he retorted, arching his eyebrows emphatically.

Ceili conceded her defeat and slipped out of the bed and gathered her clothes, balling them at her chest. She glanced back at the bed to see Mycroft watching her. For the first time in their relationship he looked at her with a hunger in his eyes.


	6. Chapter 6: Even

Entering her untouched bedroom she showered and changed into a knee length dress. It was spotted with black flecks and every colour of the rainbow that could be imagined. She pinned her hair back from her face and applied a thin layer of mascara.

Exiting her room she went down to the kitchen and began throwing together ham and cheese sandwiches, a thermos of lemonade and some strawberries she found in the fridge. She desperately needed to put grocery shopping on her list of things to do. Mycroft followed shortly after with a basket and a blanket in hand.

“Have to say I haven’t used these much.” he sighed, placing the basket on the countertop.

Ceili smiled and filled the basket with her meal before latching the lid closed. Mycroft led the way through the large French doors off the kitchen, pausing on the patio stones.

“Aren’t you going to put some shoes on?” he smirked, looking at her bare feet.

“Nope.” she replied serious, a smile eking out its existence at the corners of her mouth.

Mycroft met her gaze and scowled.

“If I get a day off, so do my feet.” she argued back.

His face relaxed and he shrugged, offering his free arm to her. Ceili took it as he led her  down to the garden path, around a manicured fountain and across to a large open grass field that was bordered by trees and just out of view of the house.

“Does this suit you?” he smiled, taking in the area.

“Yes.” Ceili replied, dropping the basket to the grass.

Grabbing the other end of the blanket the two of them had it spread out in moments and she collapsed on top of it sighing as her toes played in the long grass shoots around them. Mycroft removed his country jacket and rolled up the sleeves of his white dress shirt. The lack of a waist coat and tie was the only indication he was dressed casually, Mycroft casual.

Unpacking the basket, Ceili presented the spread as Mycroft sat next to her, his eyes watching every movement. Once the basket was unpacked she moved it to the side so it would be out of the way. Grabbing half a sandwich she nibbled on it as she watched the birds flying amongst the trees. Brushing the crumbs off her lap she finished the other half and then picked a bright red berry from its container. She bit into it slowly, the juice leaking down her chin as she swallowed.

“Let me help.” Mycroft smiled, taking her chin in his hand and licking it clean before taking her mouth in his.

Ceili pulled away gasping for breath.

“That was incredibly hot.” she gasped.

The look that crossed his face was that of a mischievous child.

They ate the rest of the berries, swapping kisses as they went until the blanket was bare of food. Mycroft looked at her concern on his face.

“What is it?” she asked, concern reflecting in her own eyes.

“I’m still hungry.” he pouted, his eyes pooling with false tears.

“That’s all I brought. I’ve been meaning to go shopping.” she shrugged, “Sorry.”

“I can think of something.” he growled, his tone changing, sending pleasurable shivers down her neck.

She met his eyes again. Hunger, sexual hunger, reflected in his eyes, like a flame, as his hand trailed up her leg.

“Are you sure you’re not going to tire of me?” she inquired, placing her hand on top of his.

Mycroft blinked at her, his eyes wavering.

“Never. I promise you.” he spoke, methodically.

“Work and play, you can’t keep them separate forever.” she replied.

“I know.” he breathed. “But for not let me return the favour, that way we are even.”

“Favour?” she squinted.

“For your good behaviour.” he smiled, his hand continuing its journey under her dress skirt.

Ceili froze; she was shocked he wanted to do this now and outdoors at that. Mycroft felt her stiffen.

“No one will hear you.” he spoke reassuringly.

Ceili arched her eyebrows, Mycroft was dealing with this the same way he did his job, attack and counter-attack, compromise and knowing just what to say at the right time. He was manipulative when he had to be and that bizarrely turned her on.

She relaxed as he ran his hand up her thigh turning her body towards him. He unbuttoned his shirt partway so some of his chest hair peaked out and then inched closer to her. Placing his hands on her ankles he pushed her legs into a bend and followed the curve of them as he pushed her dress up her legs meeting her wide eyes with a quick meeting of his lips on hers. Reaching her waistband he slid her panties, white lace, off her legs with one smooth movement of his hand and he dropped them next to her on the blanket.

“We are going to have to talk about these lace underwear.” he breathed against her lips, the fire having returned to his eyes.

Ceili smiled against his mouth, biting her lower lip as she looked at him innocently. Mycroft smiled back and dropped his head between her legs. Ceili spread them to allow him access as she supported herself on her hands. His hot breath tickled against her as she arched her back in pleasure, his tongue probing her opening. He ran his tongue up and then down her cleft, slowly and sensually as she tilted her head back, her breath becoming heavy. He worked between her legs for what seemed like ages, a slow and sensual climax building, unlike anything she had yet experienced.

Lowering her head she looked at him, his grey-blue eyes sparkling up at her as his tongue darted around her clitoris. She placed one of her hands in his hair, caressing his head, his eyes closing as he breathed against her. He slowly opened his eyes again and gave a nibble to the small hardened organ, causing her to moan deeply and brace herself again with both hands. Nibble after nibble she moaned louder until they turned into growls in her throat, begging for release. Moving up to her lips, Mycroft slipped his tongue into her mouth as he rubbed his fingers against her until she climaxed, pushing herself up against his hand, liquid squirting from under them as she bit his lower lip. Mycroft help up his glistening hand a smile crossing his lips.

“A job well done.” he laughed.

It was the first time she had heard a true laugh escape his lips, it made her heart sing.

“Good job.” she breathed, collapsing onto her back, her legs still spread around him, “Now we’re even.”

Mycroft wiped his hand on the edge of the blanket and then slipped her lace underwear back on one leg at a time before coaxing her dress hem back down to her knees. Standing, Mycroft offered his hand to her, helping Ceili stand on her unstable legs. Supporting her, he picked up the basket and flung the blanket and his jacket over his shoulder. They moved slowly back towards the house and Mycroft led her to her chair in the sitting room before returning to the kitchen to dispose of the used plates and cutlery in the sink. When he returned to the sitting room, his unfinished book in hand, he sat across from her as they had so many times before. Ceili sat silently regaining her leg strength and stability as Mycroft read his book. She retrieved her phone from the desk nearby once she felt well enough and sorted the unread messages into their assigned folders.

“Mycroft.” she called, catching his attention.

“Hmm?” he mumbled, raising his head from the book.

“There is a message from your brother and John inviting us out to dinner.” she explained.

Mycroft blinked at her.

“That’s my reaction too.” she replied, “Shall we investigate?”

He closed his book, setting it on the side table. Steepling his fingers like his brother, a Holmesian character trait.

“The dinner would definitely be John’s idea.” he deduced. “But the restaurant choice would be Sherlock’s.”

“Mia Spaghettini.” she read.

“Not formal, but not casual either. So not trying to impress, but wanting to show off just the same.”

“Are we accepting, or are you accepting?” she inquired.

“Does it say?” he inquired back.

“It reads, Dearest Mycroft and Ms. Barton.”

“Then we will accept. Though the fact you are coming speaks to the situation.”

“How so?”

“I have gone to dinner with my brother and John on other occasions. The fact that you are coming means there is an additional party member who goes unmentioned.”

“Could they not just be inviting me? We have met formally now.”

“Possible. But unlike my brother or John for that matter. John only invites women to dinner when he wants something from them.”

“Well it says 6 pm sharp. I’ll text the driver.”

The remainder of the afternoon was spent with Mycroft reading in his chair and Ceili doing some side work she hand been meaning to complete. Even on her supposed day off she had work to do, she just felt less rushed about it.

“Shall we get changed?” Mycroft suggested, standing from his chair.

“What are you wearing?” she inquired, wanting to be sure to match.

“My grey three-piece with the blue tie I think.” he decided.

“Alright then. Meet at the door at 5?”

“Yes.” he replied, grabbing his book and heading up the stairs.

Putting away her work, Ceili followed up the stairs and into her bedroom. She laid out a number of dresses and a couple of skirts and tops. She glanced over each one, removing one each pass until she ended up with a long, high-waisted, navy pleated skirt and a ruffled blouse. She put on a new, suitable layer of make-up with dark crimson lips and then curled her growing hair into wavy ringlets. The last thing she did was grab a clutch purse and matching kitten heels. The clock in her room clicked over to ‘5:00pm’ and she rushed down the stairs, meeting Mycroft at the threshold to the entrance way.

“You look divine.” he breathed, offering his arm.

The two entered their waiting car and ventured back into London, arriving at the restaurant on time, if not a few minutes early. Helping her out of the car, Mycroft led her into the restaurant, pausing at the hostess stand to check their reservation. The woman smiled at her as she led the two of them to a table in a private back corner of the place. Ceili deduced this must be their usual table, away from the crowds. Mycroft pulled out her chair for her as she sat, before taking his own. Three other chairs sat empty.

“You were right about the additional guest.” she whispered.

Mycroft nodded as he scanned the wine list, ordering a white and red wine when the waiter arrived. Soon after, Ceili spotted Sherlock’s familiar head at the front door, followed by John and another woman. Mycroft looked just as curious when she glanced at him. The two of them stood as the three approached the table, Sherlock leading.

“Brother.” he smiled, inclining his head. “Ms. Barton.”

“Sherlock.” Ceili smiled in reply, returning the nod.

“May I introduce Ms. Mary Morstan.” he gestured, motioning to the woman.

“How wonderful to meet you.” Mycroft greeted, with his governmental propriety.

“Ceili.” Ceili smiled, offering her hand. “I’m Mycroft’s PA.”

Mary smiled, returning the hand shake as they all sat. Mycroft sat to Ceili’s left with Sherlock to his left, then John and finally Mary on Ceili’s right.

“I’ve ordered us some wine, so please enjoy.” Mycroft offered as the waiter and sommelier arrived.

The group ordered their meals and then they turned to the conversation at hand.

“So what brings us here?” Mycroft questioned, looking to his brother and John.

“I wanted to introduce you to Mary.” John explained.

Mycroft looked from Mary to John studying the two of them.

“They are brothers, amazing.” Mary breathed.

Ceili smirked.

“They steeple their hands the same too when they think.” Ceili added.

Mary smiled at her, exchanging a womanly glance. Mycroft blinked, distracted by their conversation. Sherlock looked like he was about to explode, or implode, which seemed highly more likely.

“What is it?” Mycroft sighed, abandoning his thought process.

Sherlock darted a wary eye at John who sighed, rubbing his temple like Mycroft did. Maybe that was where he got it from.

“Go ahead.” John breathed, taking Mary’s hand.

“John and Mary are engaged!” Sherlock blurted, relief quickly apparent on his face.

Ceili glanced to Mary’s left hand; she hadn’t even noticed the diamond ring on her finger in the dim restaurant light.

“Congratulations!” Mycroft smiled.

John smiled back, squeezing Mary’s hand. Nothing else further was said as their food arrived, Ceili’s senses filled with the aroma of her pesto smothered pasta dish. It was then that her phone vibrated and so did Mycroft’s. She glanced at him the same time he glanced at her, pulling out his phone.

[Emergency Meeting, Diogenes Club, Magnussen]

“I’m sorry, but duty calls.” Mycroft sighed, signalling the waiter that they would have theirs to go.

“There goes my day off.” Ceili breathed to Mary, grabbing the carry out bag and following Mycroft out the door.

Stepping out of the restaurant the car was already waiting and they jumped in.

“Magnussen?” Ceili breathed, trying to catch her breath.

“A man not to be messed with.” Mycroft spoke, his voice monotone.

Ceili watched his transformation in the car to the stoic government powerhouse that everyone respected. As soon as they car touched the Diogenes Club curb, Mycroft was out and gone.


	7. Chapter 7: Stopover

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Now things start getting good.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to all who have read so far. Hope you are enjoying it.

 With a sigh Ceili followed with their food once the car had parked and sat in the retiring room late into the night, listening to the murmur of voice of the men in the next room. She thought back to the restaurant and John and Mary. John must have met her when Sherlock had faked his death and disappeared for two years. Mycroft called it Sherlock’s “going away”, but truly everyone had thought he was positively dead. John without companionship had turned to his usual penitent for women; thankfully it looked like he had found a good one in Mary and Sherlock approved at that. She wasn’t sure what time it was when Mycroft entered the room, but she knew she dozed off as her arm was stiff from supporting her head at the odd angle.

“Dinner?” she sighed, her eyes sad with concern.

Mycroft reflected her gaze, rubbing his face with his hands.

“What time is it anyways?”

Ceili glanced at the wall clock above his head.

“2 o’clock in the morning.”

Mycroft blinked his exhausted eyes, seeming to try to get the room to focus.

“When is the first meeting in the morning?” he inquired.

Ceili scanned her phone which was rested on the chair arm.

“7:30.” she stated.

“There is no point in going home.” he sighed. “You alright with roughing it?”

“I’ve done it before Mycroft.” she sighed back. “Dinner?”

“Not really hungry.” he mumbled, exhausted.

“Then you take the couch and I’ll take the chair like last time.” she explained, standing from her seat.

 “We can share the couch.” he replied, walking towards the couch as he removed his jacket and waistcoat.

Removing his shoes he lay down on the couch and opened his arms to her as she stood over him. Ceili smiled down at him, turning off the only lamp left on and slipping out of her shoes. She crawled onto the couch and buried her face against Mycroft’s soft white shirt as he wrapped his arms and legs around her, his chin resting above her head, his chest rising and falling against her fingertips. She soon found herself drifting off to sleep.

When she woke in the morning Mycroft was still fast asleep and so she moved slowly off the couch, releasing the hold his fingers had on her. Looking at the clock on the wall she noted the time ‘6:30 a.m.’ and decided to let Mycroft sleep a little longer as she prepped for the early morning meeting. Checking her phone she noticed the scheduler had them at the Palace of Westminster for the rest of the afternoon and well into the evening. The Palace of Westminster was where Mycroft did his most secret and secure work. The Diogenes Club was for discussion and co-operation in comparison. The last time she had spent any length of time there had been during Sherlock’s ‘going away’, when Mycroft had been elbow deep in the plans, which had worked, of course. The clock neared 7:00 a.m. and she leant over the sofa, brushing her hand across Mycroft’s temple, tucking a loose strand behind his ear.

“Time to get up my love.” she whispered, melodically.

Mycroft shifted, his head turning upwards to face her. The look that crossed his face was one of confusion and yet contentment.

“You’ve never spoken to me like that before.” he murmured, his voice cracking from being parched.

“Do you like it?” she smiled.

Mycroft paused, mulling it over as he sat up.

“Yes.” he breathed, his voice unsure.

Ceili stepped over in front of him, brushing his hair flat with her fingers as he rested his hands on her hips.

“Shall I help you with your waistcoat?” she offered.

“I think I can manage.” he replied.

Ceili nodded, calling one of the footmen with a rope bell, soon after a middle aged man appeared.

“Mr. Holmes requests tea and breakfast for the meeting this morning.” she announced.

Without a word the man departed and Mycroft stood, dressed, staring at their cold take away boxes on the nearest side table.

“Don’t worry about it.” Ceili shrugged.

Mycroft studied her momentarily before replying.

“How do you stand it all?” he inquired. “The missed meals, the lack of normalcy.”

“It’s my normal.” she replied, a soft smile on her lips. “I knew what this job entailed when I took it and Andrea was right about her decision and so am I.”

“Decision?” he questioned.

“I asked her why she initially took the position and she said it was the unknown, the surprises, the pace of the work. It’s an adrenaline rush.”

Mycroft stepped towards her.

“Plus I got some perks I hadn’t originally even considered.” she beamed, raising her right eyebrow.

“You haven’t tired of it?” he inquired.

“I don’t know anything different.”

Mycroft was about to speak again when the footman returned, tea tray in tow piled high with pastries and steaming tea. Ceili shrugged at Mycroft giving him a quick smirk before ushering the footman into the office where she set out the cups and saucers, pouring Mycroft his tea as he entered the space, the clock ticking over to 7:30 a.m.

When the men entered the room she poured their tea and then left them, retreating to the retiring room as she always did when she wasn’t needed. She sat in the high backed chair facing the office door and sorted the incoming emails. One was from Andrea wanting a meeting with Mycroft; Ceili typed her back scheduling her in for that late afternoon. She had seen glimpses of Andrea here and there around London, but it would be nice to actually have the opportunity to talk to her again after so many years. Ceili’s stomach grumbled but she ignored it, distracting herself with reading John’s blog that she had recently discovered.

“Muffin?” Mycroft’s voice spoke from beside her, causing her to jump and drop her phone.

“Thank you.” she breathed, smiling up at him after she had regained her phone from the floor. “Done already?”

“It is past noon.” he replied, handing her the offering.

Ceili glanced up at the clock, but too quickly, her head swam and her face flushed white. Mycroft braced her shoulder until she blinked back to focus.

“I’m fine.” she smiled meekly.

“Muffin. Now.” he ordered his voice stern.

Ceili took the muffin, breaking off small pieces as she ate it, Mycroft stood watching her.

“You need to eat.” he sighed. “You will make yourself ill and you are no help to me sick.”

“I was fine.” she replied, finishing the muffin, balling the wrapper in her hand.

“You almost passed out.” he retorted.

“You have a meeting with Andrea this afternoon.” she commented, getting up from the chair.

“Don’t change the conversation.” Mycroft growled, his eyes piercing her.

“When did this all of a sudden become about me?” she asked, turning to face him.

“I…” Mycroft stuttered, an unnatural reaction, he was always confident with his words.

“Palace of Westminster.” she continued, finishing her announcement.

Mycroft nodded silently, collecting his things and then heading for the car.


	8. Chapter 8: Work and Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I have to say this is one of the better chapters for smuttiness. Enjoy.

Mycroft’s office in the Palace of Westminster was a stark contrast to the Diogenes Club. The walls were concrete and dimly lit, the only true light entering from the skylights in the ceiling. Ceili sat in the corner of the office doing catch up when Andrea entered for her appointment.

“Andrea.” Mycroft smiled, for once, genuine.

“Mycroft.” she smiled back, inclining her head.

“What brings you to us?” he inquired.

“Us?” she paused, scanning the room until she spotted Ceili in the corner.

“Hello Andrea.” Ceili smiled.

“You’ve managed to keep her?” Andrea spoke, surprise in her voice.

“Indeed, she is most irreplaceable to me.” he nodded with a smile.

Andrea nodded appreciatively toward Ceili and then returned her attention to Mycroft.

“I did the background check you requested and it’s very in depth.” she began.

“Show me.” Mycroft replied.

Andrea removed a file from inside her suit jacket.

“Mary Morstan is and or was a secret agent for the Russians up to 10 years ago when she upped and vanished from her post.” Andrea explained aloud. “She next reappeared with the American CIA having looked to switch sides. We don’t have her Russian name, we only have her initials, A.G.R.A. but my best guess is probably Anastasia.”

“Is she a threat?” Mycroft inquired, scanning the file.

“Not to our knowledge, but hard to say in true confidence.” she replied.

“I don’t need my brother in increased danger.” Mycroft pushed.

“I know.” Andrea sighed. “We are keeping constant surveillance and will notify you of anything suspicious. “

Mycroft nodded, handing Andrea back the file.

“It was nice seeing you again.” he smiled.

“Same.” Andrea replied politely, if not a little awkwardly.

Getting up from her seat she turned to Ceili who also stood from her chair.

“You doing well?”

“Yes, very, thank you.” Ceili smiled. “Work keeping you busy?”

“Yes, been run off my feet.” she replied, “You?”

“Same, in a manner of speaking.” Ceili insinuated, arching her eyebrows.

The shocked and amazed look on Andrea’s face and the nod of appreciation told her she had gotten the hidden message. Andrea turned momentarily back to Mycroft, gave him a nod and left the room, closing the door behind her.

“John’s fiancé?” Ceili blurted out as soon as the door clicked closed.

“I must protect my brother.” Mycroft replied, nonchalantly.

“Do you background check everyone who is around your brother?” she retorted, her voice sharp.

“Yes.” he replied, his attention now on a new pile of work.

Ceili didn’t know why she was so surprised at this confession; it wasn’t anything she didn’t already know. With a sigh she returned to her work, leaving only momentarily to fetch her and Mycroft a take-out dinner of fish and chips. The lighting grew steadily darker until the unnatural glow of the halogen and fluorescent bulbs took over, casting shadows over Mycroft’s face.

“What were you going to say this morning?” Ceili spoke, breaking the long silence.

Mycroft looked up at her, his mouth forming a straight line, his eyes blurred.

“Pardon?” he replied.

“This morning, when we spoke, you hesitated about something when I confronted you.” she inquired, “You never hesitate.”

Mycroft dropped his pen onto the desk and rubbed his face with his hands.” It is nothing.” he sighed, looking at her.

“I can read you Mycroft.” Ceili retorted, “Your uncomfortable, unsure of something, I can see the little wheels spinning behind your eyes.”

Mycroft blinked slowly.

“I never thought I’d see the day when someone other than my brother could read me.” he shrugged.

“So there is something then?” she replied, her brow furrowed in concern.

“Yes.” Mycroft sighed, steepling his fingers in thought before standing and walking to the front of his desk.

“Come here.” he motioned, leaning against the desk.

Ceili stood and walked slowly forwards until she was in reaching distance and he took her waist in his hands, drawing her to him. She breathed heavily as her legs intertwined with his.

“Do you remember the conversation?” Mycroft prompted, looking into her eyes. They were at the same height with him half-sitting on the desk.

“Yes.”

“Do you remember what you said?” he asked next, his fingers restless along her waistline.

“Yes.” she frowned, her hands falling to his chest.

“What was it?”

“I asked, when did it all become about me?”

Mycroft closed his eyes, pained, a sharp intake of breath as he meditated on her words.

“It’s never been about me, it’s not supposed to. I’m helping you, I’m the assistant, I’m supposed to care, to worry, not you.”

Her hands clenched in fists, beating his chest at the last word, tears starting to well in her eyes.

“If you worry, if you’re distracted from your work, I’m failing at my job.” she whimpered.

Mycroft looked at her, opening his eyes, his mouth opened and then closed again.

“Ceili.” he breathed.

She bit her lip to stop herself from losing control of her emotion.

“You have far from failed me.” he spoke, brushing her hair behind her right ear.

Ceili breathed deeply, her chest hick-coughing as she tried to control her tears.

“What I tried to say.” Mycroft sighed. “What I have been trying to say.”

Ceili stared into his deep blue-grey eyes and discovered she could reach further into their depths then she had ever before. She saw his words before he even spoke.

“I love you.” Mycroft breathed, his eyes shining.

Ceili felt her heart skip and she stopped breathing momentarily as her brain tried to process what she had just heard.

“Me?” she breathed, speechless.

“Yes you.” he smiled. “Every bit that I am lucky enough to have.”

Ceili grabbed his head and pulled his lips to hers giving and receiving the most passionate kiss she had ever experienced. Mycroft pulled away gasping, blinking like a love struck teenager.

“The man of little relationships has a girl?” Ceili flirted, batting her eyelashes.

“Oh shut up!” he growled, grabbing her arse cheeks through her skirt.

“Did you ever think you’d see the day?” she whispered against his lips.

Mycroft breathed heavily against her, his eyes searching hers.

“No in a million years. You should buy a lottery ticket.

Ceili beamed from ear to ear, pressing herself closer against him, rubbing her pelvis against his hardening groin.

“What is it about me that is so different from the others?”  she cooed, tracing his jaw line with her finger.

“You are bright, intelligent.” he breathed, “You hold your own against me and my brother.”

“And?” she smiled.

“Your body is exquisite.” he groaned, “Your entirety is unknown to me, a mystery.”

“Will you not tire of this mystery, once you’ve searched me out?” she replied, pulling away slightly.

“You are meant to be unsolvable.” he cried, a tear rolling down his cheek, unhindered.

Ceili froze, unsure of where the emotion was coming from.

“You make me so weak Ceili.” he sighed, “You are my escape, my freedom from even myself. I am a prisoner in my own self-made prison.”

Ceili pressed her lips to his forehead, stroking his hair as he regained his composure. The man that looked up at her was the governmental Mycroft, the mask. She stepped back in surprise.

“Now, stop asking question.” He growled, grabbing her wrist roughly inhaling its scent before turning his attention back to her face.

“You were concerned about how our work and love life will pan out, yes?” he hissed. “Well let us get that out of the way now shall we while we have everything out in the open.”

He pulled her roughly against him till their mouths were centimeters apart.

“I’m going to fuck you right here.” he growled, “No mercy.”

Ceili’s breath caught, the dirty words spouting from Mycroft’s lips had her horribly turned on.

“I’m going to make love to you later.” he breathed sweetly, “Slowly.”

“At work I do what you say, home is an even playing field.” Ceili clarified.

“Precisely.” he concluded. “We are currently in my office, so?”

“Fuck me.” she breathed, “Sir.”

Mycroft smiled.

“This will only be a special treat when I feel your work has been adequate.” he spoke, turning her so that she was now against the desk.

“Have I pleased you?” she breathed.

“Very much so.” he growled, pushing the desk top clear of material. “What shall I give you as a reward?”

“Riding me senseless could be a start.” she blurted, biting her tongue.

“Did I tell you, you could speak?” he snarled.

Ceili wanted to moan in delight at his voice, his tone.

“Undress now.” he ordered.

Ceili paused only momentarily before she began unzipping her skirt, letting it fall around her ankles. She stepped out of it and her shoes before pulling off her blouse over her head. Mycroft moved to lock the office door which he did in one smooth motion as she unclipped her bra, letting it fall off her arms slowly. Her nipples stood hard and erect in the cold. She watched Mycroft observing her as she bent over to pull her silk underwear off, finally naked.

“On the desk, on your stomach.” he breathed.

Ceili turned and climbed onto the desk, her hard and sensitive nipples pressed against the wood surface. She let her feet dangle over the far end and her hands cushioned her forehead above her shoulders. She could hear Mycroft move around the desk and she focused on that to slow her breathing. She heard his jacket fall onto the chair and the small clink of his cuff links undoing as he rolled up his sleeves.

She gasped in surprise as his warm fingers appeared at the base of her neck. They hovered there till she relaxed and then they began to trace every inch along her spine to her tail bone where he rubbed gently, a tingling growing in the put of her stomach. Ceili was surprised at her body’s response to this new sensation. Mycroft’s hand continued lower spreading over her behind his fingers massaging the muscles in his grasp. He continued even lower, slipping his fingers between her legs, probing her cleft as she moaned, her fingers digging into the desk. He removed his fingers inhaling them deeply with a sigh before dropping his trousers and undergarment, moving to the end of the desk.

“Move down towards me.” he ordered.

Ceili complied, scooting down the desk top until her hips were on the edge of the desk, her feet barely touching the floor.

“So beautiful.” he whispered, his hands cupping her rounded cheeks, caressing them with his finger tips.

“I want you to repeat after me.” he ordered.

“Yes sir.” she breathed, closing her eyes.

“Work is where I fuck you. Home is where I make love to you.” he growled.

“Work is fucking.” she breathed, “Home is loving.”

“Good girl.” he cooed, stroking her behind. “Where are we again?”

“Work.” she squeaked.

“Which means?” Mycroft spoke sarcastically.

“Fucking me.” she moaned. “Hard.”

“You want that don’t you.” he hissed, “This is one of your deepest fantasies.”

“Yes.” Ceili begged.

“Yes?” he questioned.

“Yes, sir.” she repeated, correcting herself.

She felt Mycroft’s fingers slip between her legs and open her, massaging her slit gingerly and gently, but she knew this was a false sense of security. She felt his hardness against her leg and then the head of his penis trace along her arse crack until the curvature slipped between her legs and she felt him enter her, thrusting hard and deep. She cried in exhilaration, clawing at the desk as her hips rose to take him in, his hands supporting her. Thrust after thrust came rough and quick as she groaned, the noises escaping her mouth becoming shrieks of ecstasy and begging for more. Her insides twisted and contorted as Mycroft began to grunt deeply, animalistic and raw. She matched her vocalization with his, edging him on as he hammered her harder and harder.

“Fuck.” he growled, thrusting against her. “Oh god. Fuck.”

Ceili laughed, sporadically, the proper Mycroft swearing to high heaven because of her. She clenched her arse cheeks, narrowing her opening, increasing Mycroft’s pleasure.

“Yes.” he panted, slowing his rhythm momentarily to build his climax.

Ceili pressed herself off the desk slightly, bending her back, sitting even deeper on him as she rocked. The ball of energy deep in her stomach tumbled and tossed unstably, but remained just out of reach as Mycroft picked up the pace again, pushing faster and deeper against her until he climaxed, filling her with warmth deep insider her. He breathed heavily and began to pull out.

“Mycroft.” she breathed, her voice shaking. “I haven’t yet.”

He pulled out and helped to flip her over.

“I can feel it, but it just won’t.” she breathed.

“Was it something I did?” he replied.

“No. That was amazing.” she smiled. “Can you go for a round two?”

Mycroft hesitated, his muscles glistening in the dim light.

“That’s an order.” Ceili added, disillusioned.

He arched his eyebrows, amused.

“Floor. Now.” she replied to his look.

“I thought I was supposed to be doing the ordering?” he glared. “Work and home?”

Ceili hissed, pushing him away angrily as she collected her clothes and redressed.

“Just you wait!” she snarled.

The remainder of the evening and the car ride home was the most agonizing thing she had ever experienced. Her body craved Mycroft’s touch and the ball of energy burned untamed in the pit of her stomach. As soon as the car parked Ceili was out and up the steps. As fast as the door locked behind Mycroft she had him up the stairs and thrown onto his bed, legs splayed as she stripped his lower half, her own clothes following suit.

“You are mine now!” she growled against his cheekbone.

Mycroft’s glazed eyes echoed back her lust.

She bent over him caressing the smooth shaft of his penis, licking and sucking it to second life as she cupped his sack in her hand. Soon he was hard again and she raised herself over him, dropping her hips as she sighed, taking him in, her breasts hardening in response. Mycroft watched her take control, almost as an observant bystander, studying her as her body opened up around him. Ceili slowly began to rock back and forth pushing him against the aching ball inside her. She whimpered and lamented incoherently, her goal only one thing, relief. Slowly the ball of energy began to throb and beat with her movements as she moved against him, her hands balled in Mycroft’s dress shirt.

“You are a beautiful creature.” he whispered to her, stroking her arms.

She smiled, moving faster above him as she finally sensed relief.

“Cum for me my love.” he groaned, raising his hips against her.

She gasped as her body arched and exploded into a million vibrating pieces around him, her lips mouthing his name as he embraced her, her body contracting over and over around him as he released again, her head falling to his shoulder. Tears flowed from her eyes as orgasm after orgasm raked through her, Mycroft groaning as her body enveloped him in its grasp.

“Shhh.” Mycroft whispered, calming her. “Relax.”

Ceili ran her fingers over his back, her breath beginning to normalize as her stomach muscles released. Mycroft caressed her neck as he helped her off and placed her next to him on the bed. He took the remainder of his clothing off and wrapped his arms around her still shaking form.

“Did I break you?” he whimpered against her ear.

“No.” she breathed, before passing out cold.


	9. Chapter 9: Inbetween

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Necessary filler.

“Ceili?” Mycroft’s voice whispered against her ear, as his hand tucked a loose strand of hair behind it.

She groaned opening her eyes, her everything hurt.

“Hello.” he smiled across at her.

“Hi.” she murmured, afraid to move an inch.

“You alright?” he asked, his eyes concerned.

“Yes?” she replied, her voice unsure.

“You passed out cold.”

“How many times?” she asked, “How many was it?”

“Three at least in a row.” Mycroft smirked. “Fantasies can do that to a person I guess.”

Ceili was shocked, she had lost conscious awareness after the first orgasm, but three she couldn’t remember.

“You are a dirty and rough woman inside that head of yours.” Mycroft laughed, “My soul mate.”

“It’s your voice you know.” she winced, turning onto her side to fully face him.

“This voice?” he growled, sending shivers over her skin, she visibly shook her toes curling.

“Yes.” she breathed, biting her lower lip.

“Hmmm, interesting.” he shrugged, “Good to keep in mind.”

Ceili moved to get up then, her bladder calling her name. She moved slowly, gasps of pain escaping her lips as she forced herself off the bed, her legs almost buckling as they forgot how to stand. Focusing herself she padded slowly to the bathroom, relieving herself, finishing just as Mycroft entered and turned on the shower.

“Let me?” he offered, extending his hand.

Ceili took it, sighing deeply as he guided her under the steaming water. He put soap in his hands and slowly massaged her sore muscles, lathering a film over her whole body. Rinsing off, he next washed her hair slowly and methodically before taking care of himself. Once they were both clean they towelled off and Mycroft paused in the doorway.

“Should we make it official?” he questioned. “Move you in?”

Ceili froze, straightening from where she was drying her legs.

“We don’t have to rush this.” she breathed. “I love you was enough.”

Mycroft nodded.

“Wait, then.” he smiled, a small relief coming to his shoulders.

Ceili entered her room moments later, curling up on the unused bed. She knew Mycroft loved her, every word was genuine, but she also knew his lack of a true relationship in the past meant that this would be a rocky and winding road. Already she was his play thing, then a lover, now possibly more, all too quickly. These things took time to build and become strong, like his brother he was impatient and she wondered if he might become impatient with her. Getting dressed she ventured down to the kitchen grabbing a quick breakfast of toast and jam before joining Mycroft in the car for another day of meetings.


	10. Chapter 10: The Back Door

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things get a little interesting.

Ceili glanced out the window at the waning sunset as it dipped below the tree line, Mycroft was working late as had become routine over the last few months since events surrounding Magnussen had ramped up. It was around that time also that Moriarty or an unknown mimicker had made himself apparent once more to MI6. It meant that both London and Mycroft were on high alert. For weeks she had been trying to do something special for him, to no avail, but he was coming home earlier tonight, they were to head to the elder Holmes’ residence for tea in the morning. Ceili’s phone buzzed to life in her hand and she glanced down at the message.

[ETA 15 min.]

She beamed, shutting off the screen and dropping it onto the side table next to her usual chair. Running up the stairs she pulled off her clothes and searched deep in her drawers for what she had been saving. She gasped in delight when she found it. Laying the outfit out on the bed she slowly put it on piece by piece, the lace black bra, then the corset, the matching thong and then the garters. She applied some shadowy makeup and deep red lipstick, pouting at herself in the mirror. Last thing she did before leaving was throw on a pair of three inch black heels which glistened in the lamp light. Wrapping herself in a house coat she returned down to the sitting room, lighting a fire in the fireplace and then grabbing one of Mycroft’s umbrellas from the front doorway. As she sat in wait she found herself stroking the length of the umbrella sensually, the material skimming under her fingers, she closed her eyes gliding her hand along it over and over becoming wet with each stroke along its shaft. She opened her eyes when she heard the sound of the car in the driveway and stood from her seat, letting the house coat drop to the floor and stepped further into the room opening the umbrella over her head as she struck a pose, waiting. Mycroft feet in the foyer and the click of the lock sounded his arrival home.

“In here love.” Ceili called to him.

Mycroft’s footsteps neared the door as he spoke to her.

“I’ve had the most exhausting….day.” he stammered, rounding the door and seeing her standing there.

“Hello Mycroft.” she cooed, running her hand along the umbrella’s handle.

His jaw was slack, but his eyes lit with a deep burning hunger as he breathed deeply, studying her.

“I won’t bite.” she smiled, closing the umbrella, staring at the tip, nonchalantly.

Mycroft stepped closer, taking the umbrella from her as she ran her hand sensually along it, his breath catching.

“I now won’t be able to use my umbrella without picturing this you know.” he murmured, tossing the prop to the floor.

Ceili batted her eyelashes innocently.

He now studied her closer up, gazing at the shadows of her nipples beneath the bra, the curve of her waist beneath the corset. He ran his hands along her bare arse cheeks as he traced her underwear, sliding them along her thighs tracing the garters to their end at her thigh highs.

“Are you surprised?” Ceili asked as he rounded to meet her.

“Very,” he sighed, “the things going through my mind right now!”

“Like what?” she smiled, pulling on his tie.

“Like how much I want to take you right here, right now.” he replied, rubbing at his aching crotch, “It’s been too long.”

“Then take me. I’m all yours tonight.”

Mycroft bit his lower lip, fingering himself as he tried to come to a decision. Ceili blinked at him, expectantly.

“On your knees.” he eventually spoke, his tone growling in his throat.

Ceili knelt before him, looking up into his eyes. She would do anything for this man.

“Service me.” he ordered, stepping out of his shoes and towards her.

Meticulously she undid the button and zipper of his waistband, his hardening erection pressing against her fingers. She unbuttoned his braces and pulled his pants down to the floor and then removed them and his briefs swiftly before returning her attention to the hardened, pulsing organ before her. She sighed deeply, looking up at Mycroft as she slid her tongue over its length. He groaned in pleasure, squeezing his eyes shut momentarily in ecstasy at the feeling of her mouth on him. Ceili took her time to taste every inch of him before covering the head with her whole mouth, taking him in. Mycroft shuddered, intertwining his hands in her hair as she moved her head up and down his shaft, the saltiness of pre-cum crossing her taste buds. She moved over him, angling her mouth to take him deeper as he began to thrust into her, grunting and moaning as she helped him towards climax. She felt him stiffen underneath her lips and his fingers pulled at her hair as he reached the edge. With one final thrust he came inside her mouth, the contents spilling out onto her lace covered chest. Mycroft panted as he withdrew, bending down to caress her cum covered lips.

“Your dirty.” he clucked against her ear. “We can’t have that.”

Ceili pouted, her eyes meeting his in a fiery dance.

“Off with this.” he breathed, unhooking her bra and sliding it off her shoulders.

He knelt in front of her, pressing her onto the carpeted floor as he licked at his cum on her chest, migrating to each nipple teasing them into firm peaks. Ceili breathed heavily in her corset, her breasts pushed up and fuller by its weight. Mycroft sucked hungrily on them closing his eyes as she caressed his opened left hand. She moaned against it, her teeth biting into the soft meat of his palm. Satiated, Mycroft undid the corset and pulled it away exposing her bare and sweat covered stomach. He ran his hands over it, sliding effortlessly to her hips. He climbed over her so she was between his legs and he bent down to kiss her stomach, licking at her salty sweat. He nuzzled his face down further to the tip of is nose rubbing her clitoris as she opened her legs to let him pleasure her. He inhaled deeply against her, closing his eyes as he shuddered, her hands mingling in his hair.

“I love the smell of you, the taste of you,” he breathed, “and what these lace panties do.”

She smiled down at him, lifting her hips as he removed the thong with one finger. They were now both completely naked, except for her thigh highs and Mycroft was beginning to become hard again. Ceili pulled his lips up to hers, their tongues intertwining as she felt his hardness full against her stomach.

“May I propose something.” she breathed against him.

Mycroft nodded as he caressed her jaw and neckline.

“I want you to take me up the arse while you finger me.” she requested, gaging his reaction.

Mycroft froze and stared at her.

“Are you sure?” he breathed.

“Yes.” Ceili smiled. “Oh, yes.”

“Dirty girl.” he growled, Ceili sighed in reply as he licked his fingers.

Slowly he inserted one finger and then another into her tight hole as he stretched her, gasps and cries of pleasure escaping Ceili’s lips. Once she was ample he positioned himself against her, pausing to make sure this is what she wanted. Ceili closed her eyes as she raised her hips to him. Slowly he inserted, Ceili choking out silent cries as she clawed at the carpet. He pushed further, waiting for her to relax each time, her clenching muscles massaging his hardness, building his own climax before he had even pleased her. He pushed the feelings away and focused on inserting the whole of himself into her smooth arse.

“I’m so full.” she breathed, her stomach muscles contracting sporadically around him.

He moved in and out slowly, Ceili groaning longingly after every thrust. She licked her fingers and began to pleasure herself as he moved, her fingertips tickling his stomach as they moved. She bit her lower lip as she built closer and closer towards orgasm. Mycroft replaced her fingers with his, reaching deep inside her, thrusting his fingers the same time as his cock, causing her to shriek in pleasure and beg for more.

“Myc…Mycroft.” she panted, “Oh yes!”

He picked up his momentum against her and inside her as she placed her feet on his shoulders for a better angle. He found he could thrust deeper and he listened as his scrotum beat rhythmically against her buttocks. He knew she was close when she began to whimper ceaselessly under him, as she came around his fingers, him filling her deeply with his warm fluid, the two of them uttering a silent cry as the room vibrated into fractals of light. Mycroft pulled out slowly curling up next to her on the carpet.

“Thank you.” she breathed.

“Anal, really?” he replied breathless.

Ceili laughed a smile crossing her face.

“I was surprised you were so agreeable.” she smirked.

Mycroft smiled back.

“You are just as twisted in that prison of yours.” She added, stroking his jaw.

Mycroft kissed her palm.

“In your own bed tonight?” he asked, like he did every night.

Ceili breathed deeply, looking into his eyes.

“Only if you don’t want me.” she replied.

“Want to make it official then?” he countered.

Ceili had almost forgotten about his proposal. It had been months ago.

“After this, “she sighed, “anything!”

Mycroft helped her up and collected their things, putting out the fire. He escorted her up the stairs to their room, now, closing the door behind him.


	11. Chapter 11: Something Wicked This Way Comes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Someone or something?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who has read so far. Currently working on some more loveliness as we speak. Involves 4 chairs...hmm?

Ceili awoke next to Mycroft her behind aching, having paid the price for her pleasure. Mycroft acknowledged her awareness by wrapping his arms around her waist, nuzzling his nose into her collar bone.

“It’s all your fault you know.” she mumbled, placing her hands on top of his.

“How so?” he inquired, breathing against her neck.

“Do you remember the first time you fucked me on your desk?” she questioned back.

“Very much so.” he moaned, pleasurably.

“Your hands along my tail bone, rubbing, it stirred something deep inside me, a different level of pleasure, so I thought.” she explained.

“Did I succeed?” he smiled.

“Definitely.” she smiled back, turning over to kiss him.

They lay quietly staring into each other’s eyes for what seemed like an eternity but was only a few moments, silent conversation passing between them. Mycroft was the one that broke away his gaze first.

“Shall we go be sociable?” he sighed.

Ceili smiled.

“Last time you went Sherlock left your mother in tears because she thought he had died. So it can only be better.” she added.

Mycroft rolled his eyes, pushing himself out of bed.

“Do your parents know I’m coming?” she inquired.

“They know I am brining my PA along.”

“So you still haven’t told them?” she sighed, slipping out from under the covers.

“It would send them into shock. Sherlock will do that for me when he shows up.”

“Always leaving it to your brother. Yet you wonder why his life is constantly in danger.”

Mycroft was about to snarl a reply when she threw a pillow at him square in the face, exiting the room as a return volley collided with her still sore behind.

As the Holmes house was an informal affair Ceili felt at liberty to wear a nice pair of black dress jeans and a cotton blouse of rose pink. She dug through her closet for her black flats and then made her way to the foyer where Mycroft stood in a beige pair of dress pants and a light blue dress shirt rolled at the sleeves.

“Dressed down are we?” she eyed him, sarcastically.

Mycroft rolled his eyes at her as he took the opportunity to study her outfit.

“I am not used to seeing you in civilian clothing,” he commented, “might take some time for me to like it.”

Ceili frowned.

“My parents will like it though and that’s what matters today.” he concluded.

Getting into the car Ceili smiled at Mycroft, intertwining her fingers in his closest hand.

“Your things will be moved over while we are gone.” he commented as the car drove further into the countryside.

She nodded her appreciation.

“Why do you live in the manor house and not your parents?” she asked a moment later.

“They are simple people and prefer to travel. Upkeep of the place would have kept them here so they offered it to me.” he explained.

Ceili was about to ask another question when they pulled up to a large burgundy coloured farm house surrounded by trees and a hedge, a wide open field stretched out opposite. Mycroft climbed out of the car and opened the small pathway gate. Ceili followed, thanking him as the front door opened and an older woman appeared.

“Myc-e!” she shrieked, extending her arms out to him.

“Mother.” Mycroft smiled, stepping into her embrace, somewhat awkwardly.

“Is this the lady then?” she inquired spotting Ceili, releasing Mycroft from her grasp.

“Yes.” he replied, “Mother, this is Ms. Barton.”

“A pleasure!” she beamed, inviting them in.

Sherlock and an older man were already seated at a large heavy wood table as they entered the kitchen.

“Mycroft!” the man beamed, standing from his seat.

“Father.” Mycroft nodded.

Ceili stepped forward offering her hand to the man.

“Ceili, Mycroft’s PA.” she introduced.

“Welcome! Welcome!” Mr. Holmes senior beamed, “Please, sit.”

Ceili took a seat next to Sherlock, separating the brothers as she had become accustom to with Mycroft to her left. Mrs. Holmes sat opposite them after loading the table with pots of tea and pastries. Both parents began to interrogate Mycroft as she assumed they had already done with Sherlock, so she turned her attention to him to catch up. Sherlock looked at her, amused.

“How’s the consulting going? Any new cases?” she asked, knowing she’d see them across her desk soon enough.

Sherlock blinked at her question, his train of thought obviously elsewhere.

“Sorry.” he murmured.

Ceili smiled at him.

“What were you deducing?” she asked. She knew the look.

“Still trying to figure out you and my brother.” he replied.

“I see,” she shrugged, “and?”

“He is in love, that’s for sure.” he shrugged. “Going back on his on words.”

“Hmm?” Ceili glanced up from where she had been stirring her tea.

“I see no use in such emotion, takes away from proper brain function.” he added.

“What words?” she asked, meeting his gaze.

“He’s probably quoted it before it was one of his favorites. Caring is not an advantage.” Sherlock spoke, his eyes burning into hers.

“Your saying by him loving me he has a weakness?” she replied.

“Precisely. From his mouth.” Sherlock snarked. “Just hope no one will use it against him.”

Ceili swallowed hard, her heart in her throat.

“You alright dear? You suddenly look pale.” Mrs. Holmes inquired to her.

“I’m fine.” Ceili smiled, turning away from Sherlock.

“You two have been busy as well I’d guess.” Sherlock continued, just loud enough for only her to hear.

Ceili turned to meet his eyes again.

“Plenty.” she smiled, raising her eyebrows.

“Experimenting too,” he smirked, “didn’t see my brother as the type really.”

Ceili closed her eyes in humiliation.

“What are you two discussing down there?” Holmes senior inquired.

“Home and work,” Ceili smiled, “been rather busy.”

“I bet Mycroft runs you raged.” he smiled back.

“He tries.” She nodded.

“Mycroft, now tell us about your home life, got a girl at all?” Holmes senior beamed, jumping into a new Mycroft centered topic, much to Mycroft’s panic.

Ceili couldn’t believe the polar opposites the younger versus elder Holmes were. Mycroft hesitated.

“He does.” Sherlock interjected when the silence had been too long.

Mrs. Holmes looked at Mycroft across the table.

“When were you going to tell us?” she ordered, her tone echoing Mycroft’s growl.

“When the time was appropriate, mother.” he sighed, glaring at Sherlock.

“Well who’s the lucky lady?” Holmes senior inquired, biting into a Danish.

Mycroft turned to Ceili, taking her hand in his.

“This lady.” he breathed, stroking her hand with his fingers.

Mr. & Mrs. Holmes studied the two of them; Ceili could definitely see where they got the look from.

“I hope this is not like your other relationships we’ve heard about.” Holmes senior spoke, breaking the awkward silence with an equally awkward statement.

“Have I ever brought any of them to meet you in my past relationships?” Mycroft snarked, feeling attacked.

Ceili placed her hand on his arm to calm him, a deep sigh escaping his lips as Mycroft regained his composure.

“It’s just so hard to believe.” Mrs. Holmes shrugged. “I never thought I’d see the day.”

“Has it been long?” Holmes senior grilled.

“Only about 6 months, really.” Ceili replied.

“Has he said he loves you?” Mrs. Holmes asked her.

“Yes,” Ceili beamed, “on a number of occasions.”

“That’s more then I get.” she pouted in return.

“Oh mother, really!” Mycroft rolled his eyes.

“Any plans on a ring?” Sherlock blurted from his place at the end of the table, his feet resting on the corner of it.

“Sherlock!” Mrs. Holmes shouted, hitting his feet and then his head with a dish towel.

Mycroft looked ready to explode at his brother. Ceili quickly excused herself from what she knew was going to become a family argument, saying she needed to use the washroom. From the kitchen and main door a small sitting room opened off the far side through a small door. There were two chairs and a couch which faced the fireplace and a number of other doors off the sitting room. Turning towards the row of windows another door and a set of stairs led upwards, drawing her curiosity. Climbing the steep wooden staircase she found herself on a narrow landing with two doorways, one on her left and one on her right. In a familiar but childish hand a ‘DO NOT ENTER’ sign hung on the right door, a paper mache skull hung off the handle of the door to the left. Turning to the right door she pushed it open with a heavy creaking and dust mots danced across the floor. The room inside was small but tidy, a twin bed pushed up against the far wall. A desk sat against the only window and half empty bookshelves flanked it. The remaining wall space was covered with old photographs and newspaper clippings. Stepping into the room Ceili breathed deeply as she began to scan the pictures. Two young boys playing tag, another of a dog which looked to be an Irish Setter, yet another with a pre-teen Sherlock dressed as a pirate a scowling Mycroft bound in rope to a tree.  Ceili laughed at the photograph, before turning when she heard footsteps. Mycroft’s head peaked around the doorframe.

“My room.” he sighed, a contemplative smile crossing his lips.

“It’s like it hasn’t changed in decades.”

“Mother is too sentimental to throw anything out.” he explained, joining her in the room.

“Who is the dog?” she asked, pointing to the photograph in question.

“Redbeard, Sherlock’s best friend other than me of course, a childhood pet.”

“Redbeard?” she inquired, amused at the name choice.

“He had a thing for pirates.”

“And you?”

“I had my books.”

“You two really are opposite’s sometimes.” she shrugged, looking at him.

Mycroft smiled, scanning the wall.

“So what happened while I was gone?” she asked, wondering who had won the Holmesian battle.

“Sherlock got a scolding from my mother for all good that does.” Mycroft huffed.

“Anything else?” she edged on.

“I told him if he spoke about it again I would make his life a living hell.” he added.

Ceili smirked.

“Would you like to stay some more or go home?” he inquired a moment later. “Sherlock has already left.”

“I really would like to speak with your parents more or at least let them learn about me, they seem very protective.”

“My mother is a chronic worrier.” he sighed, heading for the door. “Not that Sherlock cares.”

Exiting the room, they headed back down to the kitchen.

“Have you really never brought anyone else?” she asked as they crossed the sitting room.

“Never.” he replied over his shoulder, “Not even Andrea.”

“So this is another first then?” she inquired.

“Yes.” he grimaced, holding the kitchen door for her.

“Please forgive Sherlock.” Mrs. Holmes begged as soon as she re-entered the kitchen.

“It’s alright.” she smiled.

“Please sit back down.” she offered taking her seat.

With Sherlock gone the table felt partially empty and she kept glancing at his spot. As much as she couldn’t stand Sherlock, when he was gone she felt a void.

“So tell us about you.” Mr. Holmes smiled, charging the conversation.

“Well I am Canadian for now.” she began, “worked for the Canadian government before finding the job with Mycroft.”

The Holmes’ listed intently.

“I’ve been Mycroft’s PA for over three years now.” she added, surprised herself at the passage of time.

“Where do you stay?” Mrs. Holmes asked.

“It’s a live in position so I have a room in the manor house.” she explained.

“She’s an amazing cook.” Mycroft added.

Mrs. Holmes looked amused.

“Perhaps I could copy some of your recipes over?” Ceili inquired.

Mrs. Holmes’ face and shoulders relaxed at this topic of conversation and they spent many more hours talking about recipes, food and the places they had travelled to.

“It’s almost dinner hour, we must be off.” Mycroft interrupted as the sun sank lower in the sky.

“Really? Must you?” Mrs. Holmes begged. “This is the longest you’ve ever stayed.”

“I will be back mother.” Mycroft smiled, hugging her and shaking his father’s hand.

Ceili moved to hug Mrs. Holmes good-bye.

“You are good for him.” she smiled, “I’ve never seen him so relaxed and happy.”

Ceili squeezed her in her arms and embraced Mr. Holmes as well.

“You are welcome back any time.” he invited.

Mycroft nodded a final goodbye before heading out the door and climbing into their waiting car. He sighed deeply his head falling against the back of the seat.

“Well that went surprisingly well.” Ceili commented, looking out the window.

Mycroft snorted a laugh before pulling out his phone. Ceili sighed; she hadn’t checked her phone all day, there had to be over 100 emails that would need her attention. Clicking her phone to the mail screen there was one single email which she opened hesitantly.

[Hello Ms. Barton, bored?]

Ceili’s breath caught in her throat and Mycroft noticed, his posture changing and becoming more alert.

“What is it?” he inquired.

Ceili passed him the phone.

“One email when there should have been at least 100 or more.” she explained, “Not normal.”

Mycroft nodded.

“Westminster, now.” he ordered the driver, who changed his course.

Mycroft dialed his phone and held it to his ear.

“Yes.” he spoke slowly, “He’s contacted her.”

Hanging up the phone just as quickly, he handed her device back to her.

“I don’t like being played with.” he growled, his hand balling into a fist.

“Moriarty or Magnussen you think?” Ceili breathed.

“Or a mimicker,” Mycroft added, “we have yet to have any leads, even with my connections.”

“Who were you talking to?”

“Andrea, she’s the lead on the Moriarty and Magnussen files.”

Ceili sat in silence, wondering if she should reply to the sender of the email. She lifted her fingers hesitantly and typed a speedy reply, playing stupid.

[Who is this? What have you done with my emails?]

She hit send and seconds later her phone buzzed with a reply.

[You know who this is, don’t play cute. Your emails are safe with me.]

Ceili replied back, a small smirk on her face.

[I need those emails to do my job; you don’t want to get me fired do you?]

She hit send again. This time the response took longer.

[Very well, here you go. But wait for another message from me. You’ll like the outcome.]

Within a matter of seconds after closing the message her phone buzzed loudly in her hand from the more than 100 emails she had expected to have. Mycroft glanced her way.

“Got him to cooperate.” she shrugged with a smile, quickly changing her email password, knowing it was fruitless.

By the tone of the messages her gut told her Moriarty, another very large information file that Andrea had given her. Ceili found him an interesting character, more for the fact of his smarts and humour than his criminal tendencies. She wondered if she’d ever meet the man, or if she even wanted to. Reaching the Palace of Westminster Mycroft quickly made his way to his office, texting Andrea as he went. She met them at the office door which was quickly locked behind them.

“Do you have anything?” Mycroft demanded, gripping the back of his desk chair as he stood behind it.

“It seems to be Moriarty. This is the first contact we’ve had since he originally contacted us after Sherlock’s ‘going away’.” Andrea replied. “We tried to trace it but of course it’s a bogus IP address.”

Mycroft was about to comment when Andrea continued.

“We have our best on this, trying to trace the IP coding, anything!” she explained.

“He said he would send another message.” Ceili responded.

Mycroft and Andrea both turned to look at her.

“Andrea, monitor all incoming and outgoing messages on her phone.” Mycroft ordered. “We are going to get him!”

Andrea nodded, taking Ceili’s phone from her and leaving the room. Mycroft pulled out his phone again this time with a deep sigh and hesitation.

“Yes, Sherlock.” he spoke into the receiver. “Moriarty or someone pretending to be him has made contact, you may want to be on high alert and make yourself useful.”

Hanging up the phone from his brother he stood and stared at her.

“What?” Ceili mouthed confused at his look.

“Why has he contacted you, instead of any of us? He knows us, how to play us.”

“He thinks of me as a new play toy. Something new to tease and figure out.” she presented.

“It’s always about games with him, if it is him.” Mycroft sighed, exasperated.

“I believe it is, he said that I knew who it was.” she confided.

Mycroft nodded as Andrea returned with the phone.

“We have tracking software and a monitor 24/7 on it, if he makes a peep we’ll be on him.” she explained before bidding them good evening.

A few moments after Andrea left, Mycroft decided they should head home as nothing more could be done for the time being. The car ride to the house was quiet and tension filled, both of them waiting to hear from the resurrected Moriarty and his expected message. Entering the house Mycroft locked the door behind them.

“Hungry?” she questioned, her stomach gurgling loudly.

“No, but I should probably eat.” he sighed, “I’ll be in the sitting room.”

Ceili nodded and moved to the kitchen, placing her phone on the island while she cooked. Removing a can of soup from the cupboard she poured it into the pot letting it come to a slow boil before pouring it into mugs. She carried the cups to Mycroft and handed him his.

“I thought it was a soup in mug kind of night.” she commented from her chair, curling her legs up in front of her.

Mycroft nodded as he sipped his soup, noticeably distracted.

“Moriarty said I would like the outcome of the next email, what do you think he meant?” she inquired, resting her cup on her knees.

“I don’t know,” he replied, exhaustion coating his words, “and not knowing scares me.”

“Because he’s playing with your weakness on both sides, he has you trapped, doesn’t he?” she breathed, coming to the realization. Sherlock had warned her.

“Last time we were ready for him.” Mycroft confided, “This time we have no warning, nothing to base theories on.”

“Other than it involves me.” she added, placing her finished cup on the side table.

In the distance her phone vibrated in the kitchen. She froze, meeting Mycroft’s eyes as they both stood and headed towards the noise. Ceili picked up her phone and scanned the new message.

[Nice Try.]


	12. Chapter 12: Sleeping with the enemy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wicked.

[Nice Try.]

Ceili showed Mycroft the message. He immediately pulled out his phone and attempted to dial Andrea, but his phone line was dead. Another message arrived in the inbox of her phone.

[I’ve jammed the signal. He’s so predictable.]

Ceili swallowed hard, replying to the message.

[What do you want?]

Ceili hit the send button and waited as Mycroft furiously paced the floor.

“No land line?” she commented.

“Not in here.” he countered, “But the driver’s house does, I’ll be right back!”

Ceili nodded as another message buzzed in.

[Just a little fun my lovely.]

Ceili typed back.

[Fun?]

A quick reply.

[I want to see him dance!]

Ceili’s heart stopped in her chest, she knew Mycroft was now the real target, not her. She rushed to the front door and threw it open. Two large men dressed all in black met her at the door.

“You are to come with us.” the spoke in unison.

Ceili’s phone buzzed again.

[Please come, I’d like to meet you.]

“Where’s Mycroft?!” she demanded of the men.

“Safe, for now, if you cooperate.” one of the men replied.

Ceili swallowed hard and stood tall, she would be prepared to fight if she had to. She was escorted to a car and placed in the back seat, the windows were blacked out and the front seat was blocked off by a wall of black plexi-glass. She didn’t like not knowing where she was going but it beat being blindfolded. She quickly typed into her phone.

[Andrea, help, track, have Mycroft.]

She hit send, but the message bounce back. Her phone vibrated.

[Nice try, but NO!]

Ceili sighed, it was worth the try. She could feel the car moving but she wasn’t really sure about the direction as she glanced at her phone. By the amount of time that had passed she was sure they were back in London. Ceili was flung forward in her seat as the car suddenly stopped, her door flung open.

“Follow me.” one of the men in black ordered.

Ceili couldn’t tell the two apart so they had to be identical twins. She followed them into a tall grey stone building, the sound of distant traffic told her they were indeed in London again. Through a set of glass doors she was escorted up an elevator to the top most floor where it opened out to a marble tiled foyer and a set of white carved wood doors, gold handles adorning their face. The men opened the doors and ushered her inside, shutting the door behind her. Ceili’s breath caught as she took in the room before her. Everything was lush and opulent, the thick carpeted floor a deep red, reflecting the upholstery and heavy curtains that hung at the tall windows. Pillows were strewn across a number of chairs and couches as well as a few larger ones for lounging on the floor.

“Good evening.” a fluid Irish accent spoke from behind her.

Ceili froze, closing her eyes as she breathed deeply focusing herself. She then turned to meet the man she knew to be Moriarty. She met his gaze and her heart skipped a few beats. She had seen a number of pictures of the man but in person he was undeniably gorgeous.

“Glad you came.” he smiled, his eyes twinkling mischievously.

“Where’s Mycroft?” she exhaled, not at all confident that her brain was making coherent words.

“Oh he’s fine.” Moriarty gestured, “I wanted it to be you and me for a little while first.”

He stepped forward, studying her, his eyes burning with a teenaged lust. Ceili watched him, his eyes memorizing her every feature.

“I have to complement the man on a good choice in women.”  he concluded, nonchalantly, walking away from her.

Ceili’s eyes drifted to Moriarty’s back in his tailored suit, it fit perfectly across his strong shoulders. Ceili blinked, shaking her head, she wasn’t thinking clearly. She began to wonder if she had been drugged or was being drugged.

“What do you want?” she demanded strongly, finding her voice momentarily.

Moriarty spun about, his eyebrows arched in amusement.

“As I said, just some fun.” he teased, collapsing onto one of the couches, “Come sit.”

“I’ll stand.” she replied, breathing deeply to calm her body.

“You..will…SIT!” he yelled, his eyes piercing her.

Ceili almost squealed at the sudden change in tone and her heart was back to racing as she sat down next to him.

“Better.” he cooed, brushing his hand along her thigh. Ceili shivered in response.

“Do you have this effect on all women?” she breathed, moving her leg away as much as she could.

“All men and women.” he grinned, “It’s part of what makes me, awesome!”

“So.” she replied. “Fun is what you want?”

“Yes.” he pouted, “I’ve been so bored.”

“You have Sherlock to tease?” she offered, “or any of the rest of them.”

“All boring!” he frowned, “old and boring.”

“So Mycroft then?” she replied.

“He’s someone I’ve been waiting for.” he beamed, “You are the perfect poison.”

Ceili swallowed deeply, “How did you do it?”

“What survive?” he replied.

“Yes,” she nodded, “and how you found out about me.”

“Both can be answered together.” he smiled. “Connections.”

Ceili knew she was failing miserably at trying to gain information.

“What sort of connections?” she smiled back, trying to be coy.

“Many.” he mocked.

Ceili sighed with frustration; this is what had attracted her so much to him in the file.

“Fine, what about now?” she spoke. “What do you have up your sleeve?”

“You’d like to know wouldn’t you.” he shrugged, “Mycroft has you trained just like all his other slackies.”

Ceili glared at him angrily.

Moriarty smirked.

She wanted to throttle him then and there, when suddenly the doors opened and Mycroft stumbled in.

“Ah, nice of you to join us.” Moriarty welcomed, standing from his spot.

Mycroft’s posture was collapsed and heavy, his eyes glazed over.

“Sorry about the sedative.” Moriarty commented, walking up to Mycroft. “But it makes you so much more pliable.”

Ceili stood from her seat and was about to move forward when Moriarty turned to her.

“You don’t move unless I tell you to.” he snarled, his Irish accent biting at her eardrums.

Ceili froze, a shiver running noticeably up her spine. Moriarty arched his eyebrows in response.

“Seems your pet has a thing for authority, how lucky for us.” he commented, taking Mycroft’s chin in his hand.

Ceili watched from her spot at the exchange.

“Now are you going to cooperate so we can have some fun?” he inquired to Mycroft.

Mycroft blinked blankly back at Moriarty in his drugged state.

“Good.” Moriarty smiled, “Now stay like a good boy.”

Walking away from Mycroft, Moriarty approached her, Mycroft’s eyes tracing his movements.

“Now it’s your turn.” he cooed. “You game?”

Ceili hesitated.

Moriarty blinked at her expectantly.

“What happens after whatever this is?” she asked, concern in her voice, her words catching in her throat.

“Depending on your answer, you’ll go home.”

“How can I believe you?”

“Mycroft here isn’t hurt is he?”

“You drugged him!”

“A small side note.”

“I need your word.” she ordered, meeting Moriarty’s wild eyes.

Moriarty returned her gaze as his face became serious.

“You will go home unharmed.” Moriarty spoke, “He won’t remember much.”

“Thank you. James.”

Moriarty’s eyes flicked back to their mischievous twinkle upon hearing his name.

“How I want to hear that voice begging me.” he hummed, his eyes bright.

Ceili knew then were the night was headed. She had had an inclining from their first texts that Moriarty had carnal plans for her. She wondered now why she wasn’t adverse to it. The man was a consulting criminal mastermind who had attempted to kill Sherlock, had killed 100s of others and now had one of the most powerful men in England drugged in this very room along with her for a sex party, all because he was bored.

“What are you thinking about so hard?” Moriarty chimed in, breaking her train of thought.

“Wondering why I’m doing this.” she confided.

“Your just a bored hunny, so many years the same man, no freedom, no spice, you need fun just as badly as me!” he reasoned.

“Perhaps.” she replied.

“Now I am going to cater to you my lovely as long as you cooperate, yes?” he smiled.

“Yes.” she breathed.

“Good girl.” he cooed, stepping up and stroking her hair.

Ceili closed her eye and sighed as Moriarty began to nuzzle her neck, tracing her jaw line with his nose.

“I’m going to undress you.” he growled in her ear.

Ceili nodded, biting her lip as he began to unbutton her blouse. Pushing the fabric off of her shoulders he caressed each of them in turn as he pulled off the sleeves, the fabric pooling on the floor. He ran his fingers across her shoulders and down to the cups of her white bra, tracing over her hardening nipples as he held her breasts in his palms.

“Those are his favorite too.” she breathed, as Moriarty stared at them hungrily.

He moved his hands lower, along her stomach, humming to himself as his hands glided around her sides, hooking in her jean’s belt loops as he nuzzled her neck more, biting at the soft skin above her clavicle. She whimpered in reaction as her hands moved to touch his chest. Moriarty pulled back.

“No touching.” he jested.

Ceili swallowed deeply as he ran his hands along the waistband of her jeans, methodically undoing the button as he moved to stand over her again his hot breath against her cheek. Undoing the zip he pulled the jeans downwards running his hand along her tailbone as he pushed them to the floor, his hand cupping her arse cheek in its long dextrous fingers.  Stepping back he ordered her to remove her bra which she did, letting it slide from her arms, her nipples full from arousal, then her underwear were ordered off next, she slid them to the floor, clumsily staggering out of them, her pooled jeans and her flats. Moriarty smirked at her awkwardness a silent laugh behind his eyes.

Ceili stood up straight and lifted her chin in jest as his amusement. It was an exhilarating act, if not childish. Moriarty laughed aloud, a nodded to her and a smile told her he was glad to have a compatible player at his game.

“Come with me.” he commanded, “Let’s continue.”

Ceili hesitated, trying to judge Moriarty’s next step.

“What?” he snapped impatiently.

Ceili closed her eyes, trying to regain what little composure she could muster while naked.

“Look at me! Eyes open!” he growled.

“You’re probably use to getting anything you set your eyes on.” she spoke. “Don’t tell me it’s not true.”

Moriarty blinked at her, his eyes cooling.

“Well I’m not going to go easy.” she hissed.

Moriarty smiled his eyes appreciative, yet the mischievous spark remained edging her on as he approached her once more reaching out to touch her cheek.

A drawn out noise of protest escaped Mycroft’s lips. Moriarty smirked.

“Shut it! You’ve had your turn.” Moriarty called to Mycroft over his shoulder, “Now it’s mine.”

“So polite.” she chided, “Men these days don’t know respect.”

Moriarty turned his attention back to her.

“Touché” he smirked, “Please follow me.”

Offering his hand Moriarty led her to a pile of pillows on the floor and laid her out on them as he smiled down at her. Leaving her there he moved to Mycroft and brought him close to where she lay on the floor.

“Now your turn.” he cooed to Mycroft.

Mycroft’s eyes blinked dully back.

Ceili watched as Moriarty unbuttoned Mycroft’s shirt, shivering excitedly when he ran his hands over Mycroft’s bare chest. Removing his shirt, Moriarty glanced at her mischievously before beginning to unbutton Mycroft’s pants. Sensually undoing the zipper he let the pants fall to the floor, Mycroft’s hardening mass bulged in his underwear. Ceili breathed heavily as Moriarty cupped the bulge in his hand, squeezing it as Mycroft let out a deep groan. She was trying not to picture herself in Moriarty’s place, her mind enjoying the spectacle even though she knew she shouldn’t be.

“Ah, you are beautiful!” Moriarty beamed.

Pulling off Mycroft’s briefs in one motion Moriarty giggled excitedly at the specimen before him.

“You are so much more than your brother ever would have been, so worth the wait!” he fawned.

Taking Mycroft’s arm he lay him down next to her on her left side, Mycroft’s head against her neck, his hardening member jutting from between his legs against her side. She caressed his forehead in apology, brushing his hair tenderly, causing him to stir momentarily from his drugged haze. He smiled at her as he began to caress her neck, she groaned lovingly against his lips. Moriarty stood over them his arousal becoming more noticeable every passing moment. As Mycroft caressed her neck she watched as Moriarty removed his jacket and his shirt, revealing a smooth and chiselled physique. She glanced pleasingly at him as he straightened his tussled hair. Ceili nuzzled against Mycroft’s head as Moriarty unzipped his own pants revealing his own arousal under the pair of his own navy colour boxer-briefs.

“You pleased?” he smiled, bending over her.

“Yes.” Ceili breathed, wanting desperately to taste and touch him.

She raised her hand to pet the soft skin along his side. Kneeling down at her feet Moriarty ran his hands up her legs. She opened them to him willingly and Moriarty smiled at her as he bent his head to lick at her. She moaned pleasurably as he worked around her, Mycroft migrating to her now full nipples sucking them greedily. It was an amazing feeling having two mouths on her body and once, she twisted and squirmed under them, her body alive with pleasure. Soon the air was filled with the scent of pre-sex and Moriarty’s movements became less patient and more aggressive. She could see in his eyes that Moriarty was trying to decide whether to pleasure her or Mycroft to full orgasm.

“You want him, so take him.” she panted as Moriarty worked over her, “but take my regards.”

She pulled him towards her in a deep and sensual kiss their tongues dancing around each other as Moriarty pulled away from her and clambered spread eagle over Mycroft’s stomach as he brought his mouth his. Ceili’s insides contracted in arousal at the sight of the two men, their tongues dancing as Moriarty’s hands ran up and down Mycroft’s arms. When he couldn’t contain his excitement any longer Moriarty lifted himself up and offered a recently lubed hole to Mycroft’s shaft, gasping and grunting happily as he took him in. Mycroft became aware of the constriction on his body and grunted against the pleasurable strain as Moriarty sat above him. Moriarty began slowly to move up and down above Mycroft his calf muscles taking the strain of his movements as his own hardness ricocheted against his stomach. Ceili found pleasure in watching Moriarty’s mask fall away and the weak carnal man underneath come alive. Soon Mycroft’s and Moriarty’s grunts became matched as both began to reach their climax, sweat running down their faces and chests to the carpeted floor. Mycroft in his drugged state quickly released inside Moriarty a shout of pure ecstasy echoing from his lungs as his nails dug into Moriarty’s thighs. Moriarty laughed happily at the feeling of the warmth inside him and kissed over Mycroft’s chest in caresses of thanks. His own member still required attention however and Ceili eyed him hungrily, all common sense gone, her own relief her goal. If Moriarty could give Mycroft that, imagine what he could provide to her hungry body.

Moriarty eyed her back and lifted himself from Mycroft, dragging his hardness over her stomach as shivers of pleasure ran up her spine. She ran her hands along his chiselled chest and along his muscular shoulders she had been so appreciative of earlier. Moriarty nuzzled along her neck as he positioned himself to enter her, pulling her upright and onto his lap as he did so. Ceili gasped his name as she took him in, his body filling her as her breasts rubbed against his sweat covered skin. He ran his hands up her spine as she began to move around him, groans of relief escaping his lips as he tangled his fingers in her hair. She nibbled along his shoulder blades leaving bite marks in his soft flesh as he hissed at her pleasurably, the pain bringing him closer and closer to the edge. As she felt him tensing against her she moved to his soft lips panting against them, Moriarty’s eyes burning into her soul. They remained, eyes locked as they pushed each other towards the edge, Moriarty taking her lip in his teeth as he climaxed, drawing blood, the salty sweet taste mixing with their tongues as Ceili pined happily at her own release. Moriarty continued to kiss her fervently until her orgasm was spent and then pulled away to look at her a beaming smile on his lips.

“Thank you that was more than planned.” he smiled.

“Couldn’t have said it better.” she breathed a soft smile on her own lips.

Moriarty helped her back to the cushions and the three took turns kissing and cuddling well into the night and early morning. Finally Moriarty excused himself and told her to get Mycroft and herself re-dressed. A few moments later he returned dressed in casual jeans and a white t-shirt.

“The sedation should wear off in the next few hours.” he mentioned as he helped her to dress Mycroft in his drugged stooper. “It was necessary.”

Ceili shrugged, she didn’t have the strength to argue the point and anyways the endorphins running through her blood were making her feel quiet indifferent on the matter.

“You may leave whenever you like.” he concluded when Mycroft was dressed, turning to leave.

“One question.” she interjected.

“Yes?” he sighed, turning back.

“Will you be calling again?”

“Oh most definitely!” he beamed, leaving through the door and down the long foyer until he was out of sight.

Taking Mycroft’s arm, Ceili took the elevator down to the main floor where the two men were waiting once again. Ceili placed Mycroft in the car and then slid in beside him. The car moved off and they were returned to the house just as the sun hinted at the horizon, the car turning to leave as she entered the doorway, locking it behind her. Pulling Mycroft up the stairs she closed their bedroom door and stripped both of them, running the hottest shower she could manage. Once they were clean and freshened up she placed Mycroft in bed, lying next to him under the sheets. She lay awake until she heard his breathing slow and change to a deep sleep. She didn’t know how to attack the situation or even how much Mycroft would remember. She decided she would deal with that when the time came.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is actually almost a complete re-write from what I have handwritten in my notes. I had initially written it as Moriarty and Mycroft both taking her and then Mycroft finishing Moriarty but then it just felt all wrong so ended up with what you've read above. Please let me know what you thought and if you'd like the other version I can post it as well.


	13. Chapter 13: Kiss and Tell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What will Andrea think?

Ceili opened her eyes and stretched stiffly, the events of the previous night flooding back as her lower body screamed against any movement she made. She glanced beside her at Mycroft’s still sleeping form, his eyelids fluttering actively as he dreamed. She lay, unmoving; thinking about what had happened now that the heat of the night had worn off. She and Mycroft had literally slept with the enemy. She had made contact with the most wanted man in England and hadn’t tried to apprehend him, she also had gotten little in the way of information from the exchange other than that Moriarty considered her a respectable sex partner when he sought her out. Andrea would not be happy. Slowly Ceili shifted her weight and managed to stiffly climb out of bed grabbing her phone.

[Meeting, 9 am, URGENT.]

She hit send, knowing Andrea would receive the message almost instantaneously. Her phone buzzed back quickly.

[I’m busy.]

Ceili sighed, pulling out the manipulation card.

[Not busy enough to make your job vanish.]

She hit send. Moriarty had rubbed off on her. Mycroft stirred on the bed and Ceili returned to his side as his eyes opened.

“Morning.” she smiled, studying his now clear eyes.

He smiled back, wincing as he moved stiffly to sit up.

“What happened last night? I feel like I have been run over by a lorry, twice.” he confided.

Ceili hesitated.

“Do you remember anything?” she asked.

“I remember waiting for Moriarty’s phone message, running out to the driver’s house and then blackness, foggy colours, your voice, your touch on my forehead, that’s it.” he rambled.

“You slipped on your way out the door, hit your head pretty hard.” she lied, “I’ve been taking care of you.”

Mycroft smiled at her, caressing her chin with his hand.

“We had better get dressed, Andrea is expecting us at 9:00 a.m. sharp.” she explained, pulling away and grabbing new clothes out of Mycroft’s now shared wardrobe. She chose a grey skirt suit and white blouse.

Mycroft moved more fluidly one he had gotten to his feet and Ceili was relieved to see no further trace of the previous evening.

Climbing into the Jaguar she collapsed against the seat, shutting her eyes and centering herself before Mycroft climbed in beside her.

“Palace of Westminster.” Ceili ordered as the car pulled away.

Mycroft glanced at her a few times across the car, seeming to want to speak but hesitating until Ceili couldn’t stand it any longer.

“What is it?” she snapped, her nerves frayed.

“Just that.” he replied calmly, his forehead creased in concern. “You are as tightly wound as one of my pocket watches.”

Ceili breathed deeply, fighting back her emotions as they pulled up to the Palace of Westminster, Andrea stood waiting, her face a strict mask as she observed her and then Mycroft.

“Office.” Ceili replied to Andrea’s stare, leading the way to Mycroft’s sanctuary of thought. Andrea entered last, locking the door behind her.

“What’s this all about then?” Andrea fumed. “You’ve taken me away from very important work.”

Mycroft shrugged, looking at Ceili.

“Mycroft, sit.” she breathed, “Andrea you may want to as well.”

Andrea pulled up a chair, watching her.

“You’re not preggers are you?” she blurted.

“No.” Ceili almost laughed, “Worse.”

Mycroft sat stiffly in his chair, watching the exchange.

Ceili kept her eyes on Andrea; she couldn’t do this if she looked Mycroft in the face. Taking a deep breath she explained to Andrea about the message and the jammed lines.

“We received nothing alerting us.” Andrea replied, taking notes on her phone.

Ceili then continued explaining Mycroft’s disappearance and the car ride to Moriarty’s flat.

“So you met him personally then?” Andrea nodded. “Any intel?”

“I tried.” Ceili explained, “But he’s good at dancing around the answer.”

“We know.” Andrea sighed, her face annoyed.

“He drugged Mycroft.” she confided then. “He said he wanted fun.”

“Fun?” Andrea questioned.

“Sexual pleasure.” Ceili choked, “I’d had a feeling since he first messaged me.”

“And?” Andrea spoke hesitantly.

“He played with both of us, freely to his liking.” she breathed, squeezing her eyes shut. “I let him.”

Andrea sat speechless, studying her and then glancing in Mycroft’s direction.

“What happened after this ‘fun’?” she inquired, her voice monotone now.

“He let us go.” Ceili replied.

Andrea asked a few more questions and then left, a look of confusion and shock, as well as annoyed rage on her face. The door closed almost too loudly as Ceili stood where she was, her back to Mycroft. The room was quiet except for the hum of the building’s electrical systems and her own staggered breathing.

“You lied to me.” Mycroft breathed.

Ceili closed her eyes, tears running down her cheeks. The disappointment in his voice was like a dagger in her stomach.

“Why?” he ordered.

“To protect you. I guess.” she sputtered

“Until you shared it with Andrea, because that was so much more effective?” he replied, sarcasm coating every word.

“I’ve hurt you in the most horrible way.” she breathed, “I let him.”

Mycroft sighed heavily, Ceili turned to face him.

“I don’t know what I was thinking. I wasn’t.” she sobbed.

“You were playing his game.” Mycroft stated, standing from his seat.

“I was afraid if I denied him he would hurt you more than he did.” she added.

“That is the way Moriarty works.” he replied. “He is a snake, a spider with a web of lies at his disposal.”

“He said drugging you made you pliable. He used a sedative of some kind.”

Mycroft nodded.

“You were the target all along. He called me the poison.”

“A way to manipulate me, how badly?”

Ceili shook her head and turned away.

“I need to protect you.” she replied.

Mycroft moved to her grasping her shoulders and turning her to face him again. Ceili cast her eyes to the floor.

“You liked it, you’re mortified that you enjoyed It.” he spoke to her, a kindness in his voice she hadn’t heard before.

“Yes.” she exhaled.

“He took advantage of you.” Mycroft expounded. “He blatantly manipulated you. Feel no guilt in that.”

“He undressed you.” Ceili breathed, grabbing onto his upper arms with her hands, balling her fingers in the fabric of the suit.

“He pleasured me and then took you to orgasm by taking you in. It was beautiful to watch.” she breathed, her voice little more than a whisper.

Mycroft kissed her forehead.

“You made out afterwards and then he took me next, it was just as rough and wonderful. Afterwards we cuddled together, kissing and touching.” she concluded.

“Thank you for sparing Andrea the details.” he breathed deeply against her skin.

“Will you ever forgive me?” she replied.

“I don’t need to, there is nothing to forgive.” he smiled.

“You aren’t one to just let things go.” she confided, meeting his gaze.

“No, and Moriarty will pay.” he spoke, anger peaking in his voice.

“He said he would call again.” she added, her hands dropping from his arms.

“When he does, we will be ready.” Mycroft smiled.


	14. Chapter 14: Operation Revenge

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Can revenge really be sweet?

Months passed with no sight or sound of Moriarty. The gap he had created between her and Mycroft however had become more evident as time extended onwards. Ceili still felt immense guilt and no matter how Mycroft tried she could no longer orgasm or climax when they were together, though she was able to return the favour successful.

They sat at the kitchen island an unseasonably warm breezy blowing in from one of the opened French doors.

“I can get Andrea to try and find him.” Mycroft offered for the umpteenth time.

Ceili shook her head.

“You need to get over this for us.” he continued, “I’ve had about enough of my brother.”

Ceili met his gaze, glaring.

“You’re my brother. Emotional, drama filled diva.” he huffed, “Except Sherlock wouldn’t do anything about it, you would!”

Ceili continued to stare at him her eyes relaxing.

“The woman I knew and met all those years ago was a fighter, a strong and dirty woman under those layers, my little mystery.” he explained, leaning over the countertop towards her. “I know she is still in there under all that guilt and ruin that that poor excuse for a man had dumped on us; on you.”

 “I’ll forgive when you have.” she breathed.

Mycroft cleared his throat, straightening.

“Very well, text him.” he concluded.

Ceili’s head shot bolt upright.

“What?!” she questioned.

“Text him.” he repeated. “We’ve waited long enough for his game, now he will play on our terms.”

Ceili pulled out her phone, placing it on the countertop. Mycroft nodded to her.

“I’ll dictate.” he explained.

Picking it up in her hand Ceili waited for Mycroft’s orders.

“I’m getting restless. I need to see you again.” he spoke aloud.

Ceili typed it and hit send. Her phone buzzed moments later.

[Really?]

“Your memory still has me in your grasp.” Mycroft continued.

Ceili met his gaze for a moment before typing it. Another buzz.

[I’m flattered. Where would you like to meet?]

Mycroft paused before his response; she could see him running through a hundred different scenerios.

“A surprise. A car will fetch you this evening, come alone.”

Ceili typed the reply, before speaking.

“What is the plan?” she inquired.

“Just wait and see.” he smiled. “I need to put a few things in order first. Tell him we play by his rules, capture and release.”

Ceili typed the final message, watching as Mycroft left the kitchen, pulling out his phone as he walked into the sitting room. Ceili was still amazed at how patient he was being with her, with the whole scenario, the fact that he had been taken by Moriarty seemed to not have phased him in the least, though maybe that was due to the fact that he couldn’t remember and only had what she had told him personally. Well she had the memories. Mycroft returned, stashing his phone away in his jacket pocket.

“Everything is set. The scenario will begin at 4:00 pm sharp.” he announced. “I am going out ahead; a car will be ready for you at that time.”

“You aren’t going to tell me?” she inquired.

Mycroft’s face hardened into his governmental mask.

“It’s all part of revenge my dear.” he growled, turning his back and leaving through the front door.

Ceili glanced at the clock which read 2 pm before shutting the open doors around her deciding to take a cold shower to freshen up and try to clear her head, she had no idea what Mycroft had up his sleeves. After the shower she got dressed slowly, studying herself in the bathroom mirror, her guilty conscience staring back. She hoped after the evening ahead that would all be gone. A sharp burst of car horn told her the car had arrived.

Locking the door behind her she climbed into a blue Bentley town car, not one of Mycroft’s usual vehicles but apparently all part of the plan as she recognized the driver. The car headed into London, stopping in front of a non-descript looking office building, Ceili hesitated glancing at the driver.

“Just picking up another passenger.” he explained.

Ceili was surprised at who else Mycroft had contacted. Moments later a woman excited the façade, her thin build accentuated by the tight dress she wore. Looking down the street both ways she opened the door and slid inside.

“Hello.” she smiled, her eyes attentive and inquisitive.

“Hello.” Ceili echoed, as the woman shut the car door.

“Irene Adler.” she introduced offering her hand.

“Ceili Barton.” Ceili replied, returning the offer.

“A nice strong hand, good.” Irene commented. “Mycroft has called me in as a favour.”

“You know Mycroft? How?” Ceili inquired, she had never heard of the woman.

“I met Sherlock first.” she smiled. “Then his brother.”

“You stuck around?” Ceili replied.

Irene laughed.

“Life debts can do that to a person.” she explained.

“Life debt?” Ceili probed.

“Sherlock, the both of them, saved my life.” she breathed, thoughtfully. “I was in a tight spot for a long time.”

Ceili studied the woman curiously, trying to decide what part of the plan she entailed.

“Did Mycroft explain anything to you?” Ceili asked.

“Yes, confidentially.” she nodded.

“So you won’t tell me either?” Ceili sighed.

“Soon.” she replied, patting Ceili’s leg with her hand.

Ceili turned and looked out the window as the traffic streamed past.

“You aren’t one of Mycroft’s past women are you?” Ceili inquired, the silence attacking her patience.

“No.” Irene replied, “Not my type.”

Ceili turned back to the window as the car pulled up to and stopped at a white row house.

“Home.” Irene smiled. “Follow me.”

Ceili climbed out of the car and followed Irene up the stairs to the front door where a red haired woman greeted them.

“Ms.” the woman cooed, pecking Irene on the cheek.

Irene smiled at the woman, beckoning Ceili to follow her inside. The red head studied Ceili but didn’t speak, shutting the door behind them. Climbing up a high staircase they reached the second floor and a large bedroom. The room contained a large bed, a wardrobe and a make-up table. Irene moved and took her hand sitting her on the bed.

“Mycroft has ordered me to teach you some of my skills.” Irene mused.

“Skills?” Ceili inquired.

“Moriarty is a manipulative piece of shit. I know from experience.” she continued.

Ceili watched as Irene opened the wardrobe searching through the contents.

“The man needs to be taught a lesson.” Irene scorned.

“A lesson?” Ceili breathed.

“Aha!” Irene proclaimed. “Just the right one.”

Irene turned to Ceili, holding a black sheath dress draped in lace.

“I am what you might call a dominatrix.” Irene explained, moving towards her. “I teach people what they like, what they don’t like and what they shouldn’t like.”

Ceili’s insides flipped apprehensively.

“My job,” Irene continued, pulling off her dress, “is to teach you how to bend Moriarty to your will.”

Ceili studied Irene’s body next to her, how her hips curved just at the right places, her breasts supple and round. She was a Madonna compared to herself.

Irene caught her looking as she slipped the black dress over her head.

“First thing.” she ordered, “No comparisons.”

“What?” Ceili blinked.

“I saw you comparing yourself to me, all women do it subconsciously.” she explained. “When you walk into a room, it must be all about you.”

“How?” Ceili frowned.

“First thing, you need your battle dress, like mine.” Irene smiled, twirling herself as the dress slid across her skin.

Ceili looked at her drab grey pant suit.

“No worry, Mycroft sent me your measurements.” Irene smiled, “This is for you.”

The red headed woman appeared in the door then, a dark pile of fabric in her arms. Irene walked over and took it, dismissing the woman with a wave of her hand. The dress Irene held was made of black silk, it shimmered slightly in the muted daylight cast through the curtains.

“Let me help.” Irene smiled, placing the dress on the bed. “I need to show you something.”

Ceili stood from her seat on the bed. Irene slid off her jacket.

“You are a strong woman like me under all that emotion.” Irene began.

Next she began to unbutton Ceili’s blouse.

“Every woman has something a man wants, that he can’t live without, even Moriarty.” she continued.

“I’ve already given him everything.” Ceili retorted, as Irene removed her blouse from her shoulders.

“I bet you, you haven’t.” Irene smiled, running her left hand down Ceili’s bare stomach and along her waist band.

Ceili’s breath quickened at her touch.

“When you said not your type earlier?” Ceili commented.

“Yes, women are my pleasure, but no concern.” Irene cooed, “Let’s continue.”

Ceili watched Irene more intently now as she undid her pants and pushed it off her hips.

“You had sexual relations with Moriarty, yes?” Irene commented, pulling the pant legs from Ceili’s feet.

“Yes.” Ceili choked.

“But you played the submissive did you not?” she mused, “You my dear are a born dominator. It’s written all over you.”

“What?” Ceili breathed, not sure if she was following.

“Your handshake was the first hint, you like control.” Irene smiled.

Ceili shook her head.

“I bet you orgasm more times when you’ve been on top, giving the orders, leading.” she commented to Ceili’s denial.

“Think back to when you were with Moriarty, when did you catch his attention?” Irene questioned, “Remember, I already know.”

Ceili thought back hesitantly as she stood in her underwear and bra.

“Close your eyes and picture it, you’re safe.” Irene spoke, her voice calm and fluid in the space between them.

“I was standing in front of him.” Ceili began, her breath catching on a few words.

“Good.” Irene’s voice was closer.

“He was going to undress me.” she swallowed.

“But?” Irene added.

“I called him out the fact that he is probably use to getting what he wants but that I wasn’t going to go easily.” she explained, “He liked the challenge.”

“Yes.” Irene purred in her ear.

“He liked the fact I challenged his authority.” she breathed, as she felt Irene’s body heat next to hers.

“Men like Moriarty with all that control really want to hand it all over to someone else.” Irene explained, running her hand up Ceili’s bare right leg. “By playing the submissive you denied him his most craved pleasure, Mycroft included, you both are dominant types.”

“So you want me to be a dominant for Moriarty?” Ceili whispered, her voice weak.

“Deny him first. Then let all hell rain down!” she growled, clenching Ceili’s round arse cheek in her hand.

Ceili gasped at the roughness of the interaction.

“If your theory is correct, then why can’t I let go anymore?” Ceili inquired turning to face Irene. The rough attention had her mind suddenly alert.

“You saw your own dominant acting as the submissive to another dominant, you doubt his worthiness.” Irene explained, “It’s all mind games, pack mentality, you are considering finding yourself a new alpha male for yourself.”

“So Mycroft needs to prove his worth?” Ceili replied. “Win me back?”

“Beat the challenger.” Irene snarled, “Now let me finish my job so we can get you back to yourself again.”

Ceili swallowed deeply, she really was surprised at the whole rational of the matter but somehow it made sense. Irene pushed her back onto the bed, pressing her into the mattress.

“Let’s see what kind of woman you are.” Irene challenged. “Dominate me.”

Ceili hesitated staring up into Irene’s eyes. She had only just met the woman; she wasn’t even really sure what was going on.

“I’ll whip it out of you if I have to, Moriarty is not going to win this, you got that?” she threatened.

Ceili’s chest rose and fell against Irene’s black dress, she was frozen in fear as Irene pulled off her bra.

“Dominate me, dammit!” Irene growled, slapping her across the face.

Ceili met her eyes, wide with shock.

“I’ll do it again.” Irene breathed.

Ceili shook her head. Another slap grazed her cheek.

Anger began to boil over the guilt she was feeling, the fear. The fact this woman felt she could manipulate her as well after they had just met caught her mind off guard. Moriarty had taken center stage in her mind for so long, now Irene was overthrowing him, she felt challenged.

Another slap. Ceili jolted out of her head as Irene’s hand traced down to between her legs.

“Well aren’t we a beauty.” Irene purred; the results of her slapping and prior advances evident on her fingertips.

Ceili hissed her opinion on the matter.

“There. Attitude, More!” she beamed.

Irene rubbed her palm against Ceili’s clitoris, which shockingly sprang to life causing Ceili to moan deeply, her legs giving way. Irene released her hand, running it up Ceili’s stomach.

“That hasn’t worked in a while.” Ceili panted.

“A break through then.” Irene smiled. “More?”

“Please.” Ceili begged.

Irene slid off the bed and went to her bedside drawer, withdrawing a strap on dildo.

“Now how are we going to do this?” Irene inquired, twirling the toy in her hand.

Ceili bit her lip, unsure of how to proceed. Irene studied her.

“First female interaction, hmmm?” she cooed. “I’ll take first round, my treat.”

Hiking the black dress up Irene strapped on the top letting it dangle heavily between her thighs. Ceili felt a tingling in her stomach at the sight of Irene, now androgenized with her new appendage. Irene climbed up onto the bed and Ceili fingered the toy, testing its weight under Irene’s stomach.  Irene smiled leaning over to kiss her neck as she straddled her, the toy lying heavily on Ceili’s abdomen. Irene carved teeth marks into her neck as Ceili breathed her want for more. Irene knew what she was doing as she moved to her breasts. Being a woman herself she knew where to touch, what to stimulate for maximum effect. The once familiar ball of energy began to build her stomach as Irene suckled at her breasts, Ceili pulling at her brown hair, lacing her fingers in its depths. Irene traced kisses down her stomach, pausing to lick a slick circle around her belly button. At the same time she removed Ceili’s underwear and threw them to the floor.

“Are you ready for me?” she inquired, reaching between Ceili’s legs.

Ceili opened them willingly to her touch, her wetness cool in the open room. Irene murmured her approval as she quickly lubed the large toy with an unseen bottle. She placed the toy against Ceili’s opening and eased it in, a hitched breath from Irene’s own lips as she watched Ceili take her in. They lay unmoving for a few moments as Irene allowed Ceili’s body to adjust around the toy. When Ceili nodded to her she began to move the toy in and out. Ceili smiled at the feeling she hadn’t experienced in months, her mouth hanging slack as she panted against the pressure inside her. Irene lent over and took her mouth in hers, their tongues mixing together as Irene picked up the pace. Ceili moaned against her lips, tracing her nails along Irene’s back. The energy ball inside of her began to become unsettled, a sign of an impending orgasm, but Irene moved too slowly even at her increased temp. Without warning Ceili flipped Irene over so that she now straddled her pelvis and the toy, riding it deeper. Ceili lent over biting along Irene’s jaw line, purring pleasantries in her ear. Irene laid beneath her a satisfied smile on her face as Ceili moved above her. Reaching close to climax Ceili straightened herself siting back on the toy and caressed her own breasts, twisting them into peaks as she urged herself onwards. Irene caressed her thighs with her hands running them up and down as Ceili finally reached orgasm, a shaking and sobbing mess of relief as she tightened and released around the toy inside her. Irene kept her hands on Ceili’s legs helping her to remain upright as her head swam.

“What did I say?” Irene smiled up at her. “You like control.”

Ceili smirked, unable to speak. Slowly Irene turned on her side laying Ceili down next to her and unbuckled the toy, sliding it out of her. Dumping the toy in the bathroom sink of the attached ensuite, Irene returned, standing with her hands on her hips, deep in thought. Ceili pulled herself upright and stared at Irene, waiting for her next move.

“Well I expected this whole thing to take a lot longer, but with your natural dominant tendencies you’ve done half my work for me.” she commented, decidedly moving to her make up table.

Ceili pulled the dress off the bed that the lady had brought and tested the material between her fingers; it was thin and slipped through her fingers.

“I don’t know if I can wear this.” Ceili breathed, holding up the dress.

“Do me a favour and try it on.” Irene replied, touching up her makeup after their antics.

Ceili stood on shaky legs and pulled her bra and underwear back on from the floor before pulling the dress over her head. The dress had a deep plunging neckline and cut in at her hips showing off her supple shape, the length just skimming the floor. The dress was sleeveless also and had cut outs down the back. Ceili was curious how Mycroft had gotten her measurements so spot on, she’d have to ask later. Irene turned to study her.

“Bra off, not necessary.” she ordered.

Ceili unhooked her bra and let it drop back onto the floor. Her breasts now filled the dress more and made the low dip more enticing.

“Oh yum!” the red head called from the doorway.

“Agreed.” Irene smiled.

Ceili tried to cover her front.

“No.” Irene scolded, glaring at her.

Ceili dropped her arms hesitantly.

“Own the room.” Irene reminded her. “Come here.”

Sitting down at the makeup table Irene darkened Ceili’s eyes and lips as the red head pulled her shortened hair into a low bun at the base of her neck.

“You said you knew Moriarty well?” Ceili inquired of Irene, as she tidied the table.

“I use to work for him.” Irene confided.

“Are you coming to this thing?” she asked.

“Only if you want me there.” she added.

“I would.” Ceili smiled softly.

“Then I will be there, if only for your support.” she smiled back.


	15. Chapter 15: Whip It Good

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Operation Revenge is put into action.

A car honked outside the window.

“That’s our ride.” Irene commented.

The red head stood and grabbed two long dress jackets handing one to Irene and helping Ceili into the other.

“Have fun.” she cooed, as they left the front door.

Climbing back into the Bentley the two women were taken to a section of large nondescript row houses in some central part of London. The driver stopped the car and they disembarked.

“Only Mycroft would choose a place like this.” Ceili commented as they approached the front door. The place looked incredibly rundown from the outside.

A doorman opened the door for them as they entered and took their coats without a second glance before escorting them to an upstairs hall. The inside of the building was actually larger than it looked from the outside and the upper floor seemed to consist of a number of large ballrooms.

“In here.” the man beckoned, gesturing them through a door, closing it behind them.

The room had large ornate panelled walls and a wood parkay floor. A heavy chandelier took center stage from the ceiling and three large curtained windows took up most of the far wall. A small number of chairs and a couch sat along the wall closest to them. Irene moved to sit on the couch and Ceili was about to join her when the door opened behind her and Mycroft appeared. Ceili met his gaze as he studied her, a heavy sigh escaping his throat as he nodded to Irene who inclined her head in return.

“Bring him in.” Mycroft called, his voice echoing in the room.

Two men appeared leading a hooded and bound man between them. They pulled him to the middle of the room and then dropped him heavily, leaving the way they had come.

Irene looked nervous and on edge as she studied the hooded man. Ceili knew why. Mycroft removed his suit jacket and rolled up his sleeves, the silk back waistcoat he wore mirrored her dress. He stepped towards the man grabbing the fabric around his throat lifting him slightly from the floor. Heavy breathing echoed from the hood.

“You know why you’re here you bastard!” Mycroft growled, “You are going to be taught a lesson.”

No reply issued from the hood.

“You ruined her, you took the easy route.” Mycroft continued. “You weakling.”

   A small laugh echoed through the room. Mycroft nailed him right in the crotch and the man’s knees buckled and he groaned.

“Drugging me was your easy way to get at me, you didn’t think I would cooperate, well you’re right.” Mycroft spat. “I would have taken the opportunity to ruin you.”

Mycroft released the man’s neck dropping him back to the floor. The man scrambled to his feet but was unable to move far from lack of sight as well as his now apparent bound ankles.  Ceili stepped forwards and ran her hand along the man’s familiar strong shoulders and along his chest. She tugged at the hood and pulled it from Moriarty’s face. His eyes burned like fire as he took her in, his eyes tracing the dress and the plunging neckline, his gaze lingering at her chest. Ceili hauled off and slapped him across the jaw. Moriarty hissed at her but his eyes glittered with enjoyment. Mycroft moved forward and stood face to face with him.

“The only reason you are not dead right now is because of my idiot brother.” Mycroft snarled. “He apparently has a sentiment towards you.”

Moriarty arched his eyebrows in amused thanks.

“However,” Mycroft added, “torture is not off the list of allowable actions.”

Moriarty’s face twisted into an amused yet nervous glance towards Irene.

“She is here for support, nothing more.” Mycroft stated in response to his glance.

Irene glared at Moriarty from her place on the couch.

“Now, I will go first.” Mycroft began, drawing Moriarty’s attention back to him. “If you are unlucky enough you may survive Ms. Barton as well.”

Moriarty’s legs shook out of expectation, his eyes bubbling with excitement.

“On your knees.” Mycroft ordered.

Moriarty hesitated, staring him down. With a blink Moriarty was face down on the floor, his hair in Mycroft’s fist, a knee in his back.

“When I say kneel, you kneel.” Mycroft snarled, yanking him to his knees.

Moriarty smiled as Mycroft pulled his head back at an awkward angle, meeting his gaze. A silent conversation passed between the two of them and Mycroft released his head before moving to the nearest wall and pressing a hidden buzzer. The same two men appeared with a covered table, nodding to Mycroft before departing. Mycroft moved to the table, pulling off the covering sheet to reveal a number of implements including a black leather whip which he grabbed and began to run through his fingers.

“Now then.” he spoke. “Are we going to cooperate?”

Moriarty eyed him, not speaking.

“Are you?” Mycroft questioned again, holding the whip under Moriarty’s chin, lifting his head.

“No. Sir.” he replied sarcastically, a sneer on his face.

Mycroft pulled back and lashed him across the shoulders. Moriarty hissed in response.

“I’ll let you think about your answer again.” Mycroft spoke, circling him.

Ceili watched intently, her heart racing against her chest.

“Now, are we going to cooperate?” Mycroft asked again.

“No.” Moriarty replied, as another lash hit him square across the back, ripping his shirt.

Mycroft circled again.

“Next time will be harder.” he threatened.

Moriarty chuckled under his breath; Mycroft immediately turned on him and gave two lashes across his back, eliciting a groan from Moriarty’s lips.

“Remove his shirt.” Mycroft barked at Ceili, his governmental mask leaving his eyes dead and cold.

She complied, her stomach churning in arousal as she stepped forward, the fabric of the dress clinging to her hips. She lent and unbuttoned Moriarty’s shirt as he studied her body, lifting his hands to touch her bare chest. Another whip blow landed across his back.

“She is mine.” Mycroft hissed. “You don’t touch her.”

Moriarty whined between his lips as Ceili pulled the shirt away from him, ripping open the sleeves cut by the whip until he was bare chested.

“Step back.” Mycroft breathed.

Ceili stepped away, Moriarty’s rags in her hands. She smelled them, Moriarty’s sweet scent flooding her nostrils. Moriarty watched her as she did this, his arousal evident and his breath catching against his chest. Ceili let the fabric drop to the ground where she crushed it with her foot, Moriarty’s face fell. Mycroft noticed the growing bulge in Moriarty’s pants and chuckled, making Moriarty suddenly ill at ease that his carnal craving was so easily discovered. He glared at Irene who stuck out her tongue before flashing him the middle finger.

“How mean.” he moaned at her.

“Only playing fair.” she replied.

“No one plays fair.” he retorted with a pout.

“Indeed.” Mycroft smiled, running the whip tendrils down Moriarty’s bare back causing him to shudder in response.

The room seemed to drop into a lull of silence as each person present considered their situation.

“How I hate to ruin such perfectly good skin.” Mycroft mumbled, running his finger along the middle of Moriarty’s spine. Moriarty didn’t reply, closing his eyes pleasantly to the feeling.

Within an instant Mycroft lashed out with the whip over and over across Moriarty’s back until bruises began to form. Beads of Mycroft’s sweat mixed with Moriarty’s blood as welts opened across his shoulders. Moans of pleasure and pain escaped Moriarty’s lips until he fell forward onto his hands and begged for Mycroft to stop.

“Please…” he breathed.

Ceili’s heart stopped as she deliberated as to what Mycroft would do. He glared at Moriarty curled against the floor and whipped him once more for good measure before throwing the whip to the ground. His breathing laboured at the effort he had just expended.

“I will break you.” Mycroft huffed. “Every part.”

Moriarty glanced up at him and was met with a shoe to the stomach causing him to splay out across the floor.

“Enough!” Ceili called, she hated what Moriarty had done, but he didn’t deserve near death.

Mycroft looked at her and bowed his head, stepping back as she moved forward.

“Undo his bonds and turn him over.” she ordered.

Mycroft hesitated but moved to remove Moriarty’s ropes.

“If you move without my instruction there will be consequences.” she explained as Mycroft undid the bonds around Moriarty’s ankles and wrists.

“Is that understood?” she added as Moriarty was turned over and met her gaze. He nodded.

“Good.” Ceili replied, kneeling down to his face.

Moriarty followed her eyes as she sank to his level. Ceili brushed his cheek with her hand and he closed his eyes against it.

“You poor man.” she cooed, before running her hands down his chest and tweaking his right nipple.

Moriarty yelped in surprise, lashing out at her.

“Uh ah!” she disciplined, standing away from him. “Consequences.”

Moriarty sneered at her as she walked around him, the silk of her dress brushing his side and legs.

“Pants off.” she commented casually, walking over to the table as Mycroft moved forwards.

Scanning the table Ceili found what she wanted, a cock ring. Tossing it in her hand she moved back over to a now naked Moriarty. He eyed her and the implement in her hand.

“Irene, would you like the honour?” Ceili smiled holding up the ring.

Irene stood and walked forward taking the ring and leaning over Moriarty’s form. She took his hardened cock in her hand and roughly placed on the ring reveling in Moriarty’s pained groans. Satisfied with her work she returned to the couch.

“Now we are on an even playing field.” Ceili smiled down at him.

Moriarty glared at her, his shaft trembling in its new confinement.

“You are going to watch.” she commented. “Watch Mycroft take me, he is the only man who dominates me.”

Mycroft arched his eyebrows.

“You manipulated me, you forced me and threatened me for fun, “she continued, “but that’s how you work, weakling. Isn’t it?”

Moriarty’s eyes widened and his mouth gaped, wordlessly.

“Oh yes, I enjoyed it. That guilt.” she grimaced. “You tried to ruin us, me, and you almost succeeded.”

Moriarty raised himself onto his elbows as she stood over him.

“But you didn’t because this man loves me more than anything, I trust my life to him and you will never know what that feels like, manipulation and games will never get you love!” she yelled, meeting his gaze.

Moriarty looked away.

“You will look at me.” she sobbed openly, “You are weak, you are a cheat and you will never be satisfied.”

Moriarty turned back to her, his eyes defeated and collapsed back onto the floor.

“Yes.” he breathed, “Oh god, yes.”

Ceili hardened her features against him as she turned to Mycroft.

“Come here.” she ordered.

Mycroft walked towards her slowly, observing, studying her with his blue-grey eyes as he always did. She took his hands, placing them on her waist as she met his lips, his fingers biting through the thin silk.

“How did you know my measurements?” she breathed against him.

“You remember our first time?” he replied, biting her bottom lip sensually.

“Yes.” she sighed, pressing her pelvis against him.

“Well I have impeccable memory.” he smiled, running his hands over her behind.

Moriarty whined mournfully on the floor. Ceili ignored him, he could have moved if he wanted to. She leant into Mycroft’s ear and whispered sensually to him as she placed one of his hands beneath her dress to her breast. He cupped it tenderly feeling its weight.

“I’ve always loved these.” he sighed, bring her nipple to his lips.

Ceili arched her back in satisfaction as he supported her weight, taking her breast hungrily in his mouth. She moaned her approval, lacing her fingers in his hair. Mycroft moved back to her lips and began gathering up the bottom of her dress. He pulled it to above her knees as they kissed, lifting her around his waist and carrying her to the windowed wall. He pulled away her underwear as she bit and nibbled at his bottom lip and he quickly dropped his own pants and briefs as she supported her weight on his shoulders. Ceili met Moriarty’s gaze as she prepared herself for Mycroft and groaned delightfully as he entered her, Moriarty’s eyes burning lustfully in response. She began to move up and down against Mycroft closing her eyes and resting her head against his shoulder. Mycroft supported her thighs and breathed heavily, caressing her neck. He grunted happily as she worked against him increasing the tempo little by little. As her orgasm began to grow she braced herself between the window well, arching herself to ride him deeper. Mycroft caressed her upper stomach and breasts as she panted happily building wave upon wave of ecstasy. Soon she began to shake, her muscles tensing against him and he pushed into her harder and harder until she yelled his name, digging nail marks into the plaster as she came around him, his own warm cum seeping into her as she collapsed onto his shoulder a smile on her face. Ceili caught Irene’s eye across the room and she smiled back a respectable nod at a job well done. Moriarty’s moaning drew Ceili’s attention back to him. Mycroft helped her off as he zipped up his pants. She walked over to Moriarty meeting his gaze as she stared down at him.

“What do you want?” she hissed.

“You.” he breathed.

Ceili raised her eyebrows in amusement.

“You think you deserve me?” she pondered.

Moriarty shook his head.

“Good, you learn.” she smiled sarcastically.

Moriarty pouted as her, his eyes pleading.

“Stand up.” she ordered.

Moriarty blanched at her order.

“Stand up.” she repeated.

Moriarty moaned against the cock ring and his seizing back muscles as he rolled himself to his knees and then staggered to his feet.

“You said you want me?” she echoed to his face.

“Yes.” he breathed.

“Do you remember what I said?” she whispered.

“Only he gets you.” Moriarty replied, glancing at Mycroft.

“You already got more than you should have what makes you think you get more?” she asked.

“You’re nothing but a greedy child.” Irene added, standing from the couch and joining them.

Moriarty glanced at Irene.

“Now what do you want?” Irene asked, repeating the question.

Moriarty glanced from Irene to Ceili to Mycroft and back to Ceili.

“Relief.” he breathed.

Ceili smiled.

“Remove the ring.” she ordered.

Irene removed the ring and Moriarty flushed red as blood returned to his circulation.

“You will please yourself; it’s something you should learn to do. Keeps you out of trouble.” she cooed.

Moriarty looked defeated, but his aching crotch craved attention and so he collapsed to the floor pumping himself vigorously.  Mycroft turned his back and recovered the whip to the table as Irene supervised Moriarty’s exploits on the floor. Moriarty panted and swore under his breath as he pumped himself to orgasm, his body convulsing rigidly as his own cum leaked onto the floor, the air filling with its salty scent. He released his grasp on himself and Ceili lent down pressing her lips to his forehead.

“Good boy.” she cooed, stroking his hair.

Two men entered the room then and removed the table and then returned for Moriarty.

“These men will tidy you up and get you some new clothes.” Mycroft explained, “Don’t try anything as they are a special trained task force.”

Moriarty nodded slowly as he followed the men out of the room. Mycroft turned to Irene.

“Thank you for your help and services.” he smiled.

“It was a true pleasure to work with her.” Irene replied.

“I will send the car for you and you.” he replied, turning to Ceili.

“Are you not coming home?” Ceili breathed.

“I have to ensure Moriarty’s safe return.” he explained, “Plus I have some talking to do with him.”

Ceili nodded hesitantly.

“You were beyond amazing.” he added, before turning and leaving the space.

Ceili felt her hands shake as soon as Mycroft left and she collapsed to the floor, Irene catching her arm before she hit her head.

“Ceili?” Irene breathed, fanning her.

“I’m fine.” she replied, trying to stand, but failing.

“No you’re not.” Irene replied, “Put your arm around me.”

Irene helped her to her feet and down the stairs to the waiting car.

“I’m taking you home first.” she stated, placing Ceili in the assigned vehicle.

Ceili wanted to object but her voice had disappeared with her energy. Sometime between leaving the curb and the outskirts of London she lost consciousness, slumping against the car window.


	16. Chapter 16: Recovery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A ring?

When she woke Ceili had to remember where she was. Mycroft sat next to her on their bed reading a book, a pair of reading glasses perched precariously on his nose. Ceili shifted under the sheet and found something restricting the movement of her left hand. She glanced down at an IV line attached to her arm and hand, a pole sitting next to the bed. Mycroft felt her move and closed his book, a smile crossing his lips, but his eyes reflecting only concern.

“I had John come look at you.” he explained, staring at her over the top of his reading glasses. “Irene said you collapsed.”

“I had a fall that was all.” she replied.

“That’s not all.” he retorted, his eyes narrowing. “John says it’s a case of exhaustion brought on by malnutrition, dehydration and unnatural sleep cycles.”

“So basically the last few months?”

“Yes. You need to take better care of yourself.”

“I try.” she shrugged.

“Not hard enough.” he smiled, stroking her cheek, “That’s why I’m going to try harder for you.”

“You have enough on your plate between your brother and the country.” she argued. “I can manage, it’s my job.”

“Well it’s mine now too.” he responded back, lifting her left hand, the IV line still attached.

On her left ring finger a gold band with three diamonds twinkled in the sunlight.

“Will you be mine forever?” he whispered against her ear.

Ceili was pretty sure she forgot how to breathe as tears rolled down her cheeks.

“Where did this come from?” she stammered.

Mycroft smiled, kissing her temple. Ceili studied the weight of the ring on her finger.

“This isn’t because of him is it?” she breathed.

“The final decision was because of him.” Mycroft confided. “Dealing with him has been a trial.”

“Your brother or Moriarty?” she asked a smirk on her lips.

Mycroft chuckled, his eyes squinting as his chest shook.

“Both.” he replied as a knock came to the door and Mycroft moved to open it.

John and Sherlock stood at the threshold.

“How is she?” John asked, concern reflecting in his voice.

“Just woke. Please.” he replied, inviting them in.

John immediately moved to her side his hands gently checking her vitals and the IV bag.

“We should be able to remove this.” he smiled at Ceili, unplugging the line from the catheter, pausing when he saw the ring.

John glanced at Mycroft who unnaturally shrugged as he always seemed to. Sherlock caught the exchange and quickly joined them at the bedside from where he had been standing at the window, wondering what he had missed. John removed the catheter and replaced it with a bandage, setting it back down onto the bed; Sherlock caught the glint as her hand settled.

“Brother?” Sherlock breathed.

“Yes?” Mycroft replied.

“What has she said?” he inquired.

“Nothing yet.” Mycroft sighed, “Just questions.”

Sherlock moved and perched himself on the bed beside her.

“I hate to admit it but you have made me and my brother better men. You know how I work; you can stand me, which says a lot.” Sherlock rambled. “My brother is overprotective, over smart and over worked but as you now well know would do anything to protect you.”

Ceili sat silently her eyes meeting Sherlock’s as he spoke.

“Please say yes.” Sherlock begged. “If not for him than for me, for him.”

Ceili smiled, studying the ring on her now bandaged hand and looking at Sherlock who sat on pins and needles like a child at Christams.

“Mycroft.” she called, gesturing to him.

Mycroft sat on the bed next to his brother and she took his hand.

“I will. Forever.” she smiled.

Sherlock beamed and his excitement reflected in Mycroft’s features that lent over and kissed her taking her face in his hands. Sherlock hip hopped around the room unsure what to do and John watched, a laugh escaping his chest.

“This calls for a drink!” Mycroft announced.

Everyone agreed.

“Mycroft, you and Sherlock get things ready, I’ll help Ceili.” John explained, “Oh and Sherlock call Mary.”

Sherlock nodded exiting the room with his brother close behind. Ceili watched them leave as John collected his things.

“You need to ensure you eat and sleep properly.” John sighed as he threw his instruments in his bag. “You’re no help to Mycroft stuck in bed.”

“I know.” she sighed.

John fetched a sun dress from the open side of Mycroft’s closet as well as undergarments with a little direction. He pulled back the covers off of Ceili’s legs and turned her so her legs hung over the side of the bed. Ceili discovered she had been changed into a cotton night gown while she had been asleep. John stepped forward, gently pulling the night gown over her head. Ceili felt like she should have been embarrassed or shy at the fact that John was seeing her naked but she wasn’t. She found his presence incredibly calming and maybe that was why Sherlock was so close to him and why Mycroft trusted him so quickly.

“You’ve lost weight,” he commented as he helped her put on her bra and hooked the back, “and not in a good way.”

Ceili sighed.

“I’ve been through a lot these last few months but I promise that will change now.” she explained.

“It better,” he ordered, “or I’ll have to send Sherlock or Mary after you.”

“Is she really that bad?” Ceili laughed “You are about to marry her.”

“No not really.” he smiled, pulling up her underwear and easing them around her waist.

“You’re a good doctor, “she smiled, as he grabbed her dress, “and I’m not just saying that.”

John shrugged, a smile on his face.

“It’s been said.” he commented, placing the dress over her head and arms.

He stepped back and held out his arms.

“Now take it slow, your legs will need to regain some strength.” he explained, bracing for her.

Ceili leant forward, taking his arms and carefully put weight on her feet as the dress fell around her hips to her knees. Her legs shook slightly but she didn’t fall as John walked backwards towards the door, leading her.

“How are you and Mary?” she asked as they made their way down the hall.

“Very well.” he beamed, his voice brightening. “The wedding is going to be in the early summer.”

“How beautiful!” she beamed back, “Do you have a location?”

“The Orangery.” he explained, turning to her side as they descended the stairs.

They made their way through the kitchen and found Mycroft and Sherlock sat outside on the patio, a bottle of Champagne having just been poured. John helped her to a chair and then pulled out his phone, texting something quickly before accepting a class of the bubbly from Sherlock, Mycroft handed Ceili her own and they all toasted to new and fresh beginnings. The champagne was light and silky across her tongue as she sipped from the glass. Sherlock, disliking the lack of conversation began to debrief about his latest cases. Ceili remember having read a few as they passed across Mycroft’s desk. Footsteps were heard in the kitchen and Ceili turned to see Mary in the door frame.

“Mary!” she called, a smile crossing her lips.

Mary smiled back, walking towards the group and pulling up a seat across from her.

“John told me.” she beamed, taking Ceili’s hand.

Ceili smiled at her in reply, as her hand ached around the catheter sight. She pulled it away, rubbing it for relief.

“Don’t.” Mary shunned, cradling her hand back, “That will only make it bruise.”

Mary asked Mycroft for ice and she soaked the sore area with ice cubes as they talked, Ceili’s hand numbing to the ghost sensation.

 “John said the wedding is at the beginning of summer?” Ceili commented as Mary received her own glass of champagne from John.

“Yes. He still wants to be stuck with me apparently.” Mary sighed, “Hard to believe.”

“I couldn’t agree more.” she nodded. “I’m surprised Mycroft even asked.”

“He really doesn’t seem the type does he?” Mary chuckled, the two of them glancing at Mycroft.

“What are you two plotting?” John joked from across the table where the men had been in conversation.

The two women smiled and returned back to facing each other.

“Thank you for allowing him treat me.” Ceili commented.

“He is a doctor.” Mary shrugged.

“But this is outside his usual work requirements. Time here is time he could be spending with you.” Ceili countered.

“I’m a nurse myself, it comes with the territory.” she smiled.

John stood from his spot downing the last of his champagne and explaining it was time for them to depart and so the group said their farewells before leaving through the front hallway. Mycroft returned and helped her inside, her legs regaining their strength every minute. Sitting her down on the sitting room carpet in front of the just lit fire Mycroft curled up next to her letting her lean her back agains his chest.

“So?” she breathed. “Mrs. Holmes.”

Mycroft sighed deeply, kissing the top of her head, not speaking a word.

“Your brother seems happy.” she commented.

“Hmm.” Mycroft mumbled. “I’ll expect the call from my parents in the morning.”

Ceili smiled, rubbing her open hand along the top of Mycroft’s left thigh.

“So Moriarty?” she asked next.

Mycroft inhaled sharply, Ceili felt his muscles tighten at her question.

“He shouldn’t bother us for quite some time, got him doing something to keep him busy.” Mycroft explained.

“Vague.” she sighed, “So not my business.”

“Exactly.” he replied, “Forget him.”

“Irene?” she added.

“You like her?” he smiled.

“Yes.” Ceili breathed a sigh, “I feel we can be good friends.”

“She has replied in kind.” he explained, “She said she has a gift for you when you regain your strength.”

“Does it involve you?” she inquired, tilting her head up to look at him.

“I don’t know.” he shrugged, “But I have yet to meet her on such friendly terms.”

Ceili was now excited to discover what Irene had in store for her, but her body had other plans as she felt her eyes drooping heavily. Mycroft felt her slipping and so stood and put out the fire before lifting her in his arms and carrying her up the stairs. Ceili wrapped her arms around his neck and listened to the deep and rhythmic thud of his heart against his chest. Setting her on the bed he undressed her slowly before tucking her under the sheets. He undressed himself and spooned up against her, wrapping his arms around her waist.

“I have to go to the Diogenes tomorrow, will you be alright here?” he whispered.

“I’ll be strong enough to be there.” she murmured.

“Don’t rush it.” he retorted.

“I’m not.” she smiled. “It’s just that I’ve used all my non-existent sick days.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dear Readers.
> 
> I have decided to end my story hear. I continued to write and found that I lack any further drive to write and the material went to crap as a result. Therefore I leave you with 16 chapters of my work for your enjoyment which I may return to one day. I hope you enjoyed it while it lasted.
> 
> Adieu.


End file.
